My wife says I’m a sucker for the gadgets they hawk on TV.
Like that so-called “pocket fisherman” I bought back in 1985. It’s a tiny rod and reel that fits neatly in the glove compartment. She argues I don’t fish, but when that day arrives, I’ll be ready.
I also bought a contraption that can scramble an egg while it’s still inside the shell.
“Why on earth would you need something like that?” she questioned.
But why must it always have a need or purpose? It miraculously blends the egg white and yolk inside the shell. Isn’t that enough?
She also felt that canned hair I bought was another ridiculous idea. It actually sprays on what looks and feels like real hair and successfully covers my bald spot.
I apply it each morning before I leave for work, unless there’s rain in the forecast.
She says those purchases are unnecessary extravagances, but I remind her they’re all the amazing creations of Ron Popeil, the celebrated inventor and TV pitchman from the ’80s.
She says it would be more noble if I were idolizing creative geniuses like Thomas Edison or Henry Ford.
But with all their ingenuity and imagination, neither Edison nor Ford were able to come up with the indispensable kitchen accessory known as the “Chop-O-Matic.”
But wait, there’s more.
Like that handy hair clipper that saves me a fortune now that I can give myself my own haircut. My wife claims I look like I’d been run over by a lawn mower.
She says a hat would have been a wiser purchase.
I also bought a device that can turn a hard-boiled egg into a cube shape, another invention she says has no practical function, yet since that purchase, no eggs have rolled off the table.
My wife has also been begging me to stop buying frying pans. I don’t think she fully comprehends the technological miracle of those non-stick, scratch-proof, space-age pans.
But then I’ve experienced firsthand the agony of trying to remove a fried egg stuck to the bottom of a pan.
It pains me to confess that I’m married to a woman who can’t seem to fully grasp the joy of sliding eggs.
“They’re all foolish purchases,” she persists.
That from the same person who is actually considering having herself injected with a salamander.
Really!
After foot surgery to repair tendons, she developed some arthritic pain. So the surgeon said he was looking into a therapy that involves implanting salamander DNA.
It has to do with the animal’s regenerative powers.
It’s a procedure that would cost a thousand times more than my egg cuber, but she still wants to go through with it.
The doctor says he wants her to wait for further testing since it’s still an experimental study. He explained that if things go well, such an infusion could promote new tissue growth. He didn’t say anything about a down side, but I suspect it’s also possible she could grow a tail.
I didn’t want to bring it up, but I was eager to tell her how much such a consequence would pale in comparison to a bad haircut.
humor columnist Irv Erdos at [email protected].
