Boom! Rubber Band

Here's a weird thing....rubber bands.

Tell me, when was the last time you remember purchasing a rubber band? Go ahead, think about it. I'll wait.

Waiting. ...............................................................still waiting.................give up? Yeah don't feel bad, I can't either. But I knew that (this is my topic after all) I just wanted to see how long you'd try. Even though you can't recall when you acquired a rubber band I bet you could walk to your kitchen or your desk and find a handful of these rascals scattered in the drawer. Rubber bands are like those dryer sheets that sometimes hide out in the crotch of your pants until at the most inopportune moment, say like when you are in line at the bank , it decides to make a break for it and shimmy down the pant leg and escape by sneaking past the sock. FREE AT LAST.

(What in the hell does a used dryer sheet have in store for itself after preventing static cling? I doubt roller coasters and pony rides are on the agenda. Maybe a sort of lining for a bird's nest possibly?)

I think about rubber bands all the time. I wouldn't go so far as to say that I "collect" bands (that's more than a little fishy) but I do know when and where I get them from. You can walk around my house and find a few bands hanging on random door knobs or cupboard knobs -- always handy -- and even one hanging in my shower, but that's a special one. These get used in a myriad of ways from long term to quick fixes. You just never know when you'll need one, a good band is hard to find.

(Get it? Good band....like man........wow, I've been away too long. Either I'm rusty or you've forgotten my sense of humor. Let's get it together people!)

Postal workers are NOTORIOUS for dropping bands all down the sidewalks of their routes in Chicago, like Hansel and Gretel and the breadcrumbs. All I have to do is walk two blocks out of my way and have enough bands to last the next couple months. I like to remind myself not only am I being frugal, I'm also doing a good deed by collecting these off the ground so some yippy little dog doesn't choke to death when he decides a chewy rubber band is a good afternoon snack.

(Only yippy dogs. Big dogs wouldn't bother with anything smaller than a fan belt.)

When I was growing up my parents owned a grocery store and my mom was the Non-Foods Manager. That meant on days when the stock came in we would have to help replenish the shelves. Boxes of Tylenol held together with a rubber band, bottles of cough syrup clinging together inside a rubber band -- container after container of the same. By the end of it you'd have rubber bands lined up from wrist to elbow. Enough rubber bands to last a lifetime. It was a bitch and a half to get those Mothers off your arm. Usually leaving a hairless forearm as proof of a job well done.

I venture to guess that after reading this you will catch yourself noticing the existence of rubber bands more. And, if you want yet more excitement, you can do what an old acquaintance of mine started doing. Every time he'd see a rubber band on the floor or sidewalk he'd yell, "BOOM! Rubber band" and pick it up.

I bet his forearm is hairless.