A Different Drum: In case you’re hankering to hear about hankies
On my way home from getting a flu shot, I stopped at the grocery store with the intent to stock up on tissues. As I looked at the various box sizes and tissue styles available, I couldn’t help but laugh at my foregone conclusion that because the cold winds of winter have already been doing some blowing, our family will soon need a cold-weather arsenal of Kleenex with which to blow our noses.
Perhaps my actions are those of a hypochondriac. I mean, do I bring on cold weather colds through the act of stocking up on the first line of defense against them: over-the-counter medications and facial tissues? If so, I should stop purchasing those items immediately. For what kind of a sicko would knowingly usher in suffering to his/her loved ones in the form of seasonal sickness?!
When my kids were in elementary school, their teachers’ wish lists for classroom supplies always contained facial tissues and I always supplied some, mostly because I refused to purchase the second most popular item on the classroom supplies list — hand sanitizer — as I would never purchase it for myself. I hate the stuff and the OCD/paranoia its worshippers have surrounding it.
But facial tissues are another issue. I feel like they (and whatever kind of tissue squares that were available) have saved my life. As that’s more than a bit hyperbolic, let me amend my statement to reflect that all manner of paper products, from Kleenex, to paper towels, to toilet paper, have been wonderfully and conveniently available and affordable for large-scale use when most needed by me. That’s unarguable.
Even though I have been naming “Kleenex” as the brand of tissues I use, that’s not always the case. In reality, I am an equal opportunity price shopper when it comes to tissues. And I don’t go for scented or lotion-laced snot rags. Therefore, I am just as likely to be hacking up my asthmatic lungs into a Puffs or an off-brand of tissues as the Kleenex I have been referencing.
Burning through dozens of tissues per day during an asthma exacerbation made me wonder how I would have fared in the handkerchief era. Blowing one’s nose into a washable square of cloth is quite different in many ways.
For starters, I would need to acquire several more handkerchiefs than I have with my current stash of dew rags and doggie scarves. Forget the dainty, white dress handkerchiefs that are more for looks than practical use. They’d be no match for a major asthma flare-up. Instead, I just might end up using mechanic shop cloths or Handi Wipes to do the job (try and picture either of them peeking out of the pocket of a suit jacket!). And where would I store the office workday used ones until I could go home and throw them in the laundry?
I can remember my farmer father leaving our house each morning with a fresh bandana-style red handkerchief stuffed into his pocket. Were there times during winter cold season when he had to come back to get a backup or two? I haven’t a clue. But I do know it’s easy to go through five or six of whichever variety you have during a single episode of using a nebulizer. Is this a First World problem or more like a Second World one? Regardless, I’d hate to live somewhere where I would necessarily have to blow my illness-activated nose into a palm frond.
That thought got me wandering off to research the origin of the handkerchief, according to hankybook.com, “Archaeological evidence has been found in China from 1000 BC showing figurines from the Chou dynasty holding pieces of cloth. This was thought to have been for the practical purposes of shielding their faces from the sun, or using it pretty much in the way that we use traditional handkerchiefs today — for blowing our noses, wiping our brow of sweat, or cleaning up a spill.”
Apparently, my love-hate relationship with tissues is a tradition stemming from a long line of tissue use and users — a time-honored practice that is immortalized through art. In other words, hardly something for modern society to sneeze at!
— Kristy Smith’s Different Drum humor columns are archived at her blog: diffdrum.wordpress.com.
This article originally appeared on The Holland Sentinel: A Different Drum: In case you’re hankering to hear about hankies
