And I’m not talking here about the difference between brand and so-called “generic” products. Of course, we’re all used to the idea that you pay $16.99 for a pound of Hawaiian coffee and $3.99 for a pound of something in a white can with black letters that appears to simulate “ersatz” coffee of World War II and may even be war surplus—who knows?
What I’m talking about are those things priced all out of proportion with what they are made of and the labor it took to make them.
Take for example, the simple set of snack trays. A couple of strips of wood, screws, and a coat of lacquer, right? The cost: forty or fifty bucks. Oh, sure, they probably make the things out of gopher wood from the island of Malta, or something.
Remember that big chunky set of carved wooden salad bowls and utensils you got as a wedding gift? Again, forty or fifty bucks. Could they be made of —perchance— gopher wood?
And what the heck is gopher wood anyway? It’s probably common cypress, a fragrant and fairly waterproof wood they once used to make coffins out of. It’s the wood that legend tells us was in the shafts of Cupid’s arrows. Why? Because it lasts forever. And when God told Noah to build the Ark, the specifications called for —ah-ha!—gopher wood!
So let’s not even get into those carved chess sets, saltcellars and pepper mills, humidors, shoe trees or patio tiki torches. (Gopher wood, anyone?)
I think you catch my drift: there seems to be an international conspiracy to fix the prices of certain suspicious consumer items. It is not at all surprising that these items frequently turn up as both wedding gifts and garage sale merchandise. Consider, too, that they all have one peculiar thing in common: they are things you might only own once in your life.
Think about it. How many sets of snack trays have you ever owned? How about lobster traps? Ouija boards? Bat houses? Four woods? Cranberry rakes? Mortar and pestles? Bongos? See, not that many. Are these things not made from —et voilá— gopher wood?
And just take a look at that little carved wooden box you have from someplace like “Sea Isle City, Nebraska” into which nothing will fit. They’re like bellybuttons; everybody’s got one. Cedar? Not likely. Try gopher wood!
To review, then, here are the characteristics of these objects that international pirates probably have sweatshops full of manacled carvers cranking out by the millions:
1. You will probably only ever own one of them.
2. They cost on average forty or fifty bucks.
3. They are made out of gopher wood.
Be on the lookout for these items; they are passed among us. How can you know them? Check the little white sticker on the bottom that tells where the item was made: No doubt, it divulges the location of an international cartel headquarters in New Jersey—or a prospering factory in a gopher wood forest somewhere on the island of Malta.
How can you avoid being taken in by this international conspiracy? Here are three guidelines:
1. Don’t ever marry. Failing that, ask that all wedding gifts be donations
made in your name to your favorite charity or to Save the Gopher Wood
Forests.
2. Avoid flea markets and garage sales. And whatever you do, don’t bid
more than forty or fifty bucks on an unopened “box lot” at auction.
3. Buy plastics.
College: Not Just a Seven-Letter Word
Advice for parents of late high schoolers: If you think the college search has been stressful, wait until you pull away from the curb of your child’s dormitory at (Insert name of your matriculant’s college or university here).
It’s not just that that they’re faster, nimbler, thirty years younger, fifty pounds lighter, with darker hair, tighter jeans, and firmer skin. They live to party.
I can hear you protest: But my kid’s different; my kid has at least the sense God gave a bunch of turnips. Unfortunately, that won’t be enough. And I shudder because, well, I’m getting kids number three and four ready for college.
And if you don’t believe me, just ask the presidents and chancellors of more than 125 of the country’s best-known colleges and universities who’ve called for discussion of a lower drinking age as part of The Amethyst Initiative (http://www.amethystinitiative.org/). Or the community college president (not an Amethyst signatory) who resigned with a $400,000 severance package for drinking beer on a boat with his shirt off.
So while you’re waiting for the “thick envelopes” to arrive, practice gulping down tranquilizers by the handful and consider some of these exploded myths of college experience for “newbie” parents.
Myth: Moving a child to college must necessarily resemble the Normandy Invasion. Wrong. Here’s a packing tip: Wait to buy the appliances. Or you’ll inevitably find your kid in one fourth of a 10’ x 10’ room with four big screen TVs, four DVD players, four sound systems, four mini-fridges, four microwaves, four mini-vacs, etc. You can relax because the roomies in your child’s “quad” will buy their own industrial-strength blender—and not just for milkshakes, either.
Myth: As “digital natives,” college kids are the masters of today’s marvelous array of electronics. This one will keep you awake at night. College kid calling home: “Hi Dad. My (insert “iPod,” “cell phone,” “laptop,” etc. here) fell into (insert “the toilet,” “a blender full of kiwi daiquiris,” “a child’s wading pool full of chocolate pudding”). My roommate tried to dry it out with a road flare, but it still doesn’t work…Can I just order another one—please?”
Myth: College kids today are more health-conscious than ever. True, but only if you consider tanning and eating beef burritos after 2:00 a.m. a form of New Age religion. You may have heard that eighteen-year-olds believe they are immortal; they frequently act accordingly.
Myth: My child will not fall victim to the dreaded “freshman fifteen” pounds of weight gain. In fact, most college freshmen eventually convince their parents that they have converted to vegetarianism when, in fact, they are regularly pounding down thousands of calories in turkey wraps, chips and salsa, and flagons of “lite” beer.
Myth: My kid would never dare carry a fake ID. OK. But here is post-9/11 America’s dirty little secret: Since one of their favorite hobbies is copious amounts of premarital drinking, college students accept fake IDs as a one of the facts of life at U.S. institutions of higher learning. A study published in Psychology of Addictive Behaviors reported that by the end of sophomore year, nearly 33% of college students surveyed reported that they owned a fake ID, a fact that ought to be giving folks at the Department of Homeland Security ulcers because the other 67% probably responded with “What do you mean by ‘fake?’”
I’m not worried though; to make up for this breach of security, the rubber-gloved people at the airport have trained Doberman pinschers to sniff my shoes. I somehow sleep easier with that knowledge.
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