The Coonridge Digest: Everything from disposable underwear to disposable income

Greetings from the Ridge.

I’d never heard of disposable underwear. I mean, I’ve seen underwear that’s been disposed, is about to be disposed, and in the case of Herb’s collection of skivvies from antiquity, should be disposed – but I’d never heard of drawers that were specifically made for a single wearing. Then I got the email.

We’re traveling abroad with a group of wild gypsies this summer and a fellow traveler happened upon what he declared to be the best travel gizmo since the putting propellers on planes. "Check out this website, Freida. They have disposable socks and underwear. Just think of the room this’ll leave in your suitcase."

My first thought was, just how big do you think my feet and tail are, Bubba? Then I reconsidered – heck, what better use of my upcoming disposable income from Bush stimulus plan than to spend a couple of bucks on disposable underwear? I saw a certain symmetry and justice to honoring the president’s plan for fiscal renewal.

I logged onto the site and succumbed to the Internet temptation of compulsive clicking… and clicking…

…a digital altimeter for $150. In case you’re afraid of flying, this little gismo will tell you just how afraid you are, marking off the terrifying flying height foot by digital foot.

…a boarding pouch. No, this isn’t a United Airline convenience for kangaroos. It’s a leather thong you wear around your neck to announce to any pickpockets, "Here’s my plane tickets and passport! No need checking all my pockets."

…they also sell a "leak-proof" boarding pouch for $35 in case you’re a boarding the plane while under water.

…airplane headrest protectors, $10.50. No indication of whether you’re protecting your head or the headrest.

…a portable speaker system for 70 bucks. You bring your IPod aboard so you can listen to music without disturbing others, then plug the speakers into your headphones to annoy everyone with Tony Orlando’s Greatest Irish Hits.

…a small bottle of "flight spray" for just $14.75. I had a cousin Myron who used to sniff stuff that’d put him in orbit but I don’t remember there being a label on the bottle.

…a "plane sheet" for $29.75. This little number slips over your entire seat. Sounds like disposable underwear.

Okay, all of this seems a bit silly. The bottom line is 1) get on the stupid plane, and 2) endure it until touchdown. But if I were to open a travel supplies store, there are a few items I’d consider stocking.

Like maybe… a scanner to run over my boarding pass that would emit a voice saying, "Danger! Danger! There is a baby with sinus congestion located in the seat behind you. Ask for a reassignment!" Or maybe a seat widener. I can remember my father using fence stretchers to draw out an eighth-mile span of woven wire fencing. Surely they could invent something that’d add an extra couple of inches to the width of my plane seat.

And I think there’s a market for steel-toed travel moccasins. You fall asleep, your foot slips out in the aisle, the flight attendant roars down the passageway with her bomb-proof refreshment cart and just as you’re dreaming of your bikini-clad martini in the Bahamas, Brunhilda of the Crash-Cart has rolled over the toe of your left foot.

The metallic moccasin will be designed to stop rolling drink trays, a roving 5-year-old, and the U.S. Army’s newest Abrams M1 tank.

Or how about a CD player with a recording designed to lie to you. You snap on the earpiece then console yourself with such delightful deceptions as, "The plane will be landing in five minutes. We’d like you to all remain seated while Freida deplanes." Or "We happen to have one extra seat left in first class. Would the lady with the fence stretcher please come forward to claim it?"

God help me, I clicked on three pair of the disposable underwear and I now anxiously await their arrival. I hope they don’t disintegrate in the hands of some postal inspector, and I’ll test them to see if something labeled "disposable" could indeed last through the rigors of a 12-hour bus trip. I still have a fear that the Scottish Highland will take a toll on my own personal lowlands. If they work, I may let you know. If not… well, that information will be disposable.

You ever in Coonridge, stop by. We may not answer the door, but you’ll enjoy the trip.