According to news sources and other unreliable sources of information, a majority of we human-types are suffering from pandemic fatigue. Personally, I’m suffering more from election fatigue, probably because I sent in my mail-in ballot weeks ago. Whatever political doggy-doo that pops up on the television screen or in my inbox every 38 seconds is falling on deaf ears and eyes, if eyes could be deaf. I assumed my mind wouldn’t be changed if I waited to vote, unless either candidate did something horrendous or egregious, such as twerking the Mormon Tabernacle Choir or something just as nasty was dug out of their backgrounds, which in Donald Trump’s case was very possible. But I’m done with it and the political advertising hurricane is just annoying.
Speaking of advertising, I accidentally saw a Walmart commercial touting how the company buys American-made goods and how it’s helping every American. Somehow, the company overlooked the fact that it was the main reason why many American companies, large and small, were out of business. Before I became a highly-paid writer, I worked at Menards. I happened to be shelving some Rubbermaid products. They seemed to be moderately crummy, possibly manufactured by vandals. Curious. Rubbermaid always had made top of the line stuff. Checking the shipping containers, I discovered the items were made in China. Oh, no. They sold out, I thought. I was wrong. It turns out they were forced out of business by Walmart, who kept squeezing them on price, pitting them against foreign companies. Negotiations reached a breaking point when the Chinese offered their stuff more than one-half a cent lower (!) than Rubbermaid’s. Within a few months made-in-America Rubbermaid was gone, along with all the American workers it employed.
I’ve previously noted here that Donald Trump, the second fattest president (not just his head), was another entity who, on David Letterman’s show, was touting American manufacturing and lamenting how American goods were being produced in Mexico, China, or other foreign countries. David pulled out articles from Trump’s clothing line. They were produced in Mexico, China, or other foreign countries.
While I’m still on manufacturing, I happened to find an interesting book in some of my parents’ old junk I still haven’t gotten rid of, much to my wife’s chagrin. Entitled “Fame and Fortune in Ideas: 234 Illustrated Ideas for Fun and Profit” by Ray Gross. It was written in 1938. I’m sure it was my father’s book because he had an entrepreneurial spirit. Both he and my mother had grown up with much of nothing, my father in a dirt floor cabin in Manitoba, Canada, and my mother in condemned buildings in Chicago, but each had a different attitude toward making a living. My mother thought a person should get a good job and stay with it for life, while my father thought it was best to start your own business and not rely on someone else to hand you a paycheck or send you packing at will.
They did manage to start making potato chips in the mid-thirties and sold small bags of chips to North Side Chicago taverns. But when the business got to the point where it was too large for just the two of them, my mother got cold feet and felt it would be best to work for someone else and avoid the headaches and long hours. She got a job with Belmont Radio and my father became a tool and die maker for Zenith. But I digress.
Some of the ideas in Gross’ 1938 book are somewhat weird, but it is interesting to see many others who have made it into our lives in one form or another. One of his practical ideas is producing carbon copies without carbon paper by using chemically-treated paper to make a copy from writing instrument pressure. Another is an indoor/outdoor thermometer. How about a sensor on a car that detects objects in front and automatically applies the brakes? Or a home fire alarm that rings when it senses smoke or gas? Or a suitcase with wheels? Or a book that when opened, is actually a scroll and a take-up reel that you cranked to see a page at a time (Kindle, anyone?). There are more such items, but I’m running out of space. One of his slightly-whacky invention ideas is a revolving kitchen. Fridge, stove, sink, cabinets, Mormon Tabernacle Choir (I like to squeeze them in whenever I can), would sit on a turntable in the middle of the room. The average housewife could sit on a stool and have the turntable rotate to whatever she required. How about a spring-loaded pool cue? Or, a trombone that plays and blows bubbles?
Get out of the Pandemic Funk. The world is just waiting for Gross’ drill that can drill square holes. Get busy.