Do they make Jewish handkerchiefs?
By TED ROBERTS, the SCRIBBLER ON THE ROOF
Who would have believed it? Every day we survive in this vale of tears – or hall of comedy, depending on your outlook – we learn something new.
It began innocently enough. We were visiting my out-of-town daughter. On such trips I’m weak on logistics. Why? Because naturally her hubby has closets piled with clothes. So what if I forget a jacket or shirt or even male lingerie? “Betty,” I say to the daughter to whom I conceived in partnership with my wife. “Hey Betty, grab me one of
Bill’s shirts. I forgot to pack mine.”
“Sure, Pop,” comes the welcome response. Simple. So what if I forgot to throw a shirt or pair of pants in the suitcase.
On our last trip I say, “Betty, forgot my hankies, grab one of Bill’s. I’m running like the Kalikak River in Alaska when the ice melts in August.”
She looks at me with a pair of eyes that say, “which old folks home do you favor” and “can you afford 4K a month maintenance. And I hope it’s a long way from here.” I’m puzzled. Why this look? All I did was ask to borrow a hanky and she gives me this scornful look. I’m the father, she’s the child. I’ve been dissecting this world 30 years longer than
she. (Besides, I was even going to return the handkerchief.)
“Bill doesn’t have a hanky,” she says, “and furthermore Jewish men who retain their freedom without attendants at the “Happy Hours Home” don’t carry a handkerchief.”
“Why Jews – or is this a universal axiom? What about Buddhists, Hindus?”
A look of disgust flattens her face. “Pop, nobody carries a hanky.”
What? They don’t carry a hanky? Do they have a nose? Has the faucet concept derived by He who made nostrils suddenly become obsolete?
Another withering look from the lady who married a man without a white cloth. And it speaks, “Nobody carries one anymore, old man”!
A dozen questions leap to my mind. Are noses no longer blown? What about the leakage problem? What if he wants to surrender to a highwayman? What if he spills soup on his pants before a key business meeting? (A little water, a little rubbing – problem corrected.)
“Pop,” she screams in frustration, “men carry tissue like Kleenex.” I could shred a tissue in one blow, sneeze one into shreds with a single snort. Is she crazy?
Reminding her of my senior status AND powers of observation, plus the fact that I, a normal-nosed American male with a drawer full of handy hankies – we make a deal. Like politicians, only we’ll be honest, we’ll poll the next ten guys we encounter. Guess what? I lose. None of these poor guys carry one of those square cloths. Certainly none under
fifty.
As age encroaches you get more carriers. I guess because the need increases. Old faucets drip more – the washer wears out. Trembling hands spill more mayo from your hamburger. Summary: Not nearly as many men carry them. No doubt about it. (Based on my sample of ten.)
The data is still somewhat tentative. Ah, the solution: A government Hanky Czar who scientifically collects data – feeds it back to the Hanky industry. Thusly, the supply will fit the demand. And anybody who blows their nose in one of the 10K pages of Obamacare goes immediately to jail, where the government has huge stacks of strong, available material.
But drop the politics. I learned something. Young men don’t carry hankies. How do they get by with it? Next; an investigation of how ladies are equally handicapped. Maybe the key factor is that middle-aged folks no longer blow their nose – it might fall off.
