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16 august 2000

protecto, one-ply avenger

Okay, so we're driving down the New Jersey Turnpike, and decide to take a little break. We pull off at exit 5, which is (appropriately enough), the Walt Whitman rest area. The perfect poets' pit stop.

I notice a cheerful door placard at the entrance that states, "this building is sanitized with Lysol!" (Goody!) It is otherwise your typical mid-seventies construction and decor --- brown, orange, and mustard. Cinderblock. Somewhat dreary and creepy, the sort of well-lit place where you look behind you, just in case. They had the usual second-rate food chains, selling bright red hot dogs, frozen yogurt, and old pretzels. For the forgetful business traveller on the go, there was a fair selection of t-shirts and ceramic voodoo key chain knickknacks. Excellent gifts for the kids, and your last-chance bid to buy their love.

While the NJ Isn't for Claustrophobes! t-shirts are tempting, I make a beeline for the ladies' room, and and nearly knocked over by the smell...

...of fresh roses

I am totally not kidding you here. There were real, live vases with real, live roses on every sink in there. Wow. This was not going to be entirely unpleasant.

So I stroll back to the private stalls, and am faced with the superhero of rest-stop America --- PROTECTO, the one-ply seat sheet guaranteed to ward away offending potty microbes and leave your bum in pristine condition. Justice league music played in my head. Protecto, Protecto, we detecto your paranoi-o! I swear if I had more room, I would have danced a little jig.

And it occurred to me that we are freaks. We are so wacked out on cultural microphobia, that we can be suckered into believing that a sheet of tissue paper can protect us from a truly funk-o-riffic seat. Come on --- if it is too just nasty in there to make contact, you need to notify the management and relocate yourself.

To support my point, I spoke with my nurse friend, Brenda. She agreed that as long as the seat is dry and tidy, you're good to go. It is, after all, porcelean. Not exactly cootie-friendly stuff.

However, since someone is going to continue manufacturing Protecto, I thought of some alternative uses. Great for gift bags --- store-bought tissue paper is a big honkin' waste of money! Or, grab a handful and use them as bibs for the kids. They're messy little bipeds! Oh, sure, they'll fight it when you slip Protecto around their heads. That's when you chime in with the "if you didn't spill your Spaghettios, we wouldn't have to do this" speech.

Your kid will develop table manners in no time. Protecto, Slovenly Avenger! Protecto, Sheeting of the Paranoid! Protecto, love it, wear it, make origami pteradactyls with it! Me, I'm composing poetry on the sheets of my brand-spanking new Protecto notebook. After all, isn't that what Walt Whitman would have wanted?