The conversation started innocently enough.
A person advertising with us wanted to know if her ad was ‘too risque.? Ever the eavesdropping kind of guy, I listened as our ad rep hemmed and hawed trying to answer. When the conversation was completed and the phone connection terminated, I asked what all the hubbub was.
The sales rep reported his client, who owns a beauty salon, wanted to know if her town was ready for an ad proclaiming she performs a service with Brazilian Wax.
Brazilian Wax? What is Brazilian Wax and what is it used for, I wondered aloud to the ad rep? The ad rep just shrugged his shoulders. Not satisfied with that answer I went to the women in the composition department — surely they’d know, after all this was a question about some sort of beauty salon treatment.
I asked and they either honestly didn’t know or knew and thought I was some sort of jerk for asking. Regardless, I gained no new knowledge from the womenfolk. In general, I have an inquiring mind. If I have a question I want an answer. So I returned to my office and typed Brazilian Wax in some internet search engine. Through the marvels of modern science and computer wizardry in .22 seconds up popped the first ten of 156,000 links to information about Brazilian Wax. On the computer screen in front of me was all the information (and lots more) I ever needed or wanted to know about Brazilian Wax jobs.
Imagine my horror when I found out what the heck Brazilian Wax is and what it is used for and realized I would have to go out among the women I had just questioned. It was definitely uncomfortable. I believe I blushed.
So, what is Brazilian Wax and what is it used for? If you know, I don’t have to tell you and if you don’t know, well, it’s just as well.
* * *
Epilogue: Haunted house on the hill
Last week I told readers about a strange, barely audible, almost vibration-like, ‘whoomp? sound emanating from our basement. I told readers, that as the midnight hour approached and we, wife Jen and I, lay in bed the sound came. I told you how I made up a quick explanation to pacify Jen, while I remained in bed, conjuring up all sorts dark theories to myself. Well, that ghost-bustin? wife o? mine took it upon herself to track down that spooky (and up to the moment in time, unexplained) noise.
T’waren’t no ghost nor goblin.
Nothing so sinister.
Jen tracked down said ‘whoomp? to the water heater — which was set to full burn by her very own husband (and that would be me). Seems Danger Don ignored every possible verbal and print warning and set the water heater to ‘Super-Duper, Molten Lava Hot.? This heat caused the rumbling sound.
Brave Jen turned the knob down 27 notches to ‘Safe For Human Use? and our ghost problem was solved (and our gas bill shrunk!)
* * *
Newspaperin? Lesson No. 227
Just what is it I write here in the hallowed halls of Dontrushmedom?
Some would say: dribble.
Some would say: Crap.
Some would say: A sack full of untruths.
I would say: They are all correct, sort of. I write a column — my opinion at any given moment in time — usually when I type it. While I am well versed in writing Front Page News and Editorials, Don’t Rush Me is neither. It is what I believe, what my eyes see, my brain processes, what my heart and gut feels. It ain’t reporting. It ain’t fair. Heck, it ain’t even balanced. It’s an opinion penned to evoke emotion and stimulate thought. It has nothing to do with ‘journalistic integrity.?
Some think the world would be a better place if those darned ‘opinion? mongers would just leave public officials alone to do their jobs.
There’d be no corruption.
(And fewer spelling errors!)
There’d be no wrong-doing.
(And less newsprint wasted!)
There’d be no controversy.
(Only happiness and joy!)
There’d be no difference of opinion.
(Only ‘official? thought!)
Wouldn’t that be great?
Has anybody read 1984?
Comments for the dim-witted, scared and opinionated Don Rush can be e-mailed to: dontrushemedon@aol.com