Hell of a Guy

Never Fart in an Elevator…


My feeble little mind, the one with the aging and rapidly atrophying medulla oblongata, thought of this title one morning as I was descending from the fourth floor of a Hilton Garden Inn to the first floor under some extreme intestinal distress.  There was a pressure evident and I thought for a very brief moment of gaining relief of it by expelling this flatulence, inasmuch as I was alone in the elevator, but I knew as soon I did it the elevator would stop and a group of nuns would get on and I would have to fain ignorance of the offending odor.

All of our lives we have been given wisps of wisdom on what not to do in certain situations.  Unfortunately, most of us do not always heed these caveats, and I surely am the offender in chief.

Ever notice someone driving down the road picking their nose?  Our mothers instructed all of us not to pick our noses, especially in public places.  I read once we do it in cars because, firstly, we are alone and, secondly, we believe once we close a car door we become instantly invisible.  Not so, Gunga Din!  We actually become increasingly visible as soon as a digit hits a nostril, and are seen by everyone occupying every passing vehicle and anyone standing on the side of the road because something in nature immediately forces the eyes of anyone within 1000 feet to look directly at us.  I think this may be a part of Murphy’s Law - anything done in a vehicle is instantly viewed by the world, including our mothers.  Do as I should do, always, if the need arises, pick your nose in a private place, one where you are totally alone, like a closet with the door shut.  You won’t be viewed by others and your nose will benefit.

What about the clean underwear thing?  I remember my mother chastising me with the finger wag to wear clean underwear, to save embarrassment least I have an accident.  I don’t know what kind of accident she was talking about, but she did nearly scare the crap out of me with this admonition, and that is why even now I change mine a couple times every day…yes, I am kidding, but I have to admit to this day I drive in fear.

Be sure to wash behind your ears was another of mother’s instructions.  I recall a time when I was about nine or ten when I told Mom I had a system to make sure I hit every part of my body with the wash cloth.  She laughed and told me I might want to reverse the procedure when I explained I started with my feet and worked up.  I was young, for crying out loud, and never thought about the critical middle parts of my body.  I made the correction and won praise from my mother, I think it made me the favorite of her five children. 

There were lots of these little warnings throughout my life.  Some I heeded and most I did not.  Thank God I heeded the one about farting in an elevator.

And that is all I have to say about that…

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