Monday, October 24, 2011

deutschland, deutschland, uber alles

Last night I was drinking from the bathroom faucet after brushing my teeth, and I noticed the barest whisper of chilly water, which means winter faucet drinking season is almost here! It's my favorite faucet drinking season of all. Our bathroom is on the north side of the house, where there is a tangle of Pyracantha and dogwood that spans the house from front to back, so it is perpetually in the shade. Therefore, the bathroom faucet water is always the coldest water in the house, and therefore the best-tasting. But in winter it becomes ambrosial.

I drink from the faucet because I find cups in the bathroom to be needless furbelows. Frankly, I like the taste of water straight from the tap, and I'll go to my grave drinking it that way, unless I have a stroke and can't walk anymore, and the nursing home workers won't hold me up next to the sink because they are too busy stealing my identity. I feel like that last sentence has too many commas. I'm suspicious of commas. They are sneaky and always trying to use their powers for evil.

John's sister is moving, and a woman in the ward she's moving into wanted her to bring a calf, like a live Jersey calf, with her--you know, she's already driving across the country, so why would it be a big deal to bring some total stranger lady a cow? And that right there is why I could never be a real hippie. There is a large subset of the hippie population for whom the concept of personal property does not exist. For them, all resources are community resources, which is a fine idea, but not terribly respectful in practice. That's why the United Order doesn't work--there's always some jerk who holds back the cream from the communally-owned milk cow, or uses the community's corn to make mash liquor and doesn't share, or drops her kids off on your street and assumes that somebody will take care of them while she goes shopping for the rest of the day.


Melissa Cunningham said...

You keep me in stitches. Love your posts! I am a perpetual faucet drinker too. I've trained my kids to be the same way, much to Bryan's chagrin. He can't stand "that unsanitary habit." Pretty ironic, considering HE'S the country boy. Maybe it's the plumber in him. Go figure.