Another Creative Example of Conservative Recycling
I must confess that I once knocked newspaper advice columnist, Heloise, flat on her butt. There was no intent to do so but we happened to intersect with our shopping carts in a Sam’s Club in San Antonio at precisely the wrong moment for that lovely lady. In any event, I did in fact knock her from her feet onto a low display of something in large, relatively soft burlap bags so that, thankfully, she suffered no injury. I helped her to her feet, apologizing profusely for my inattentiveness, and then went on my way. I knew who she was but I didn’t want get into any kind of celebrity slobbering thing with her. She was shopping for her family as was I and I had no intention of intruding on her private life.
That said, Heloise had previously put one of my ideas in her column which in effect proved her advice in a prior column to be wrong. Earlier, she had stated unequivocally in one of her columns that all, absolutely all and every old toothbrush, must be destroyed because it might harbor contagious disease forms and represent a household threat. I had written to Heloise, identifying myself as an old paratrooper and combat infantry NCO and explained to her that in six years of infantry service that the only time I ever threw away an old toothbrush was when the bristles were down to the nub. I told her that when I was ordered to Vietnam back in 1965, I packed all the toothbrushes I’d been saving for just such a mission and yes, those brushes served me well.
In all its years of existence up to that time, the United States Army had never come up with a better all-purpose weapons and equipment cleaning tool than a simple toothbrush. Through what soldiers call field expediency, which means using whatever is available to accomplish your mission, those warriors in the light infantry, and no soldier goes into combat in more of a light infantry status than a paratrooper, learned that a couple or more of old toothbrushes were exceptionally desirable tools to have in a combat environment.
However, that was not the toothbrush role I proposed to Heloise after she had written her column advising their mass destruction. I submitted to her the reality that a toothbrush could be cleansed of bacteria with a simple dip into some household bleach and after that, the potential uses of that small brush were endless.
I listed several as I recall but then I revealed the absolute very best use I ever have found for an old toothbrush. One day, decades after my military service, I was sitting at my computer when one of our several felines came in and began threading her way through my legs. I saw an old toothbrush on my desk kept nearby for keyboard cleaning, picked it up and began stroking her head from under her chin to the tops of her ears. Within a couple of minutes, she was all mine, purring ecstatically and tilting her little face up for more. Based on that success, I tried it with every one of our kitties and all responded the same way. Eureka! Ol’ Russ had discovered the Kitty Facial.
Shortly thereafter I sent Heloise a suggestion that she advise her readers that instead of destroying all those old toothbrushes, she should alert them to their potential value in giving kitty facials. Instead of being just another piece of plastic to go into the landfill, an old toothbrush could be the source of much pleasure for a kitty and its owner. In a future column, she did precisely that. You who own cats should try it. You’ll see very quickly that a simple toothbrush can become a source of endless pleasure to your little feline family and to you as well as a dispenser of so much pleasure. It is one of those opportunities in life to be a giver of pleasure to a creature you love with minimal effort. We have no dogs but I will wager that Ol’ Shep will respond the same way little kitty does.
OK you libs out there who delight in accusing conservatives of being heartless and unconcerned about our environment, how’s this for a creative and humanitarian example of recycling?