The Lint Screen

If you’re one of those people who washes his/her hands after going to the bathroom (and we all sincerely hope that you are), you may have noticed a revolution of modernity in public restrooms.

It’s not electric eye-triggered soap dispensers and water facets– which are typically spotty in performance, or robotic toilet tissue dispensers “May I assist in wiping, please, master?”

No, the real revolution is in hand drying.

Yes, hand drying.

It used to be that the Globe Hand Dryer was the pinnacle of hot air-blowing technology, but now it has been blown to the sidelines by a beast that calls itself Xlerator.

The marvel comes in white and hi tech brushed aluminum and expels air like an F-15 engine that’s riled to rip some serious stratosphere.

If you’ve encountered the Xlerator, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

Place your wet hands beneath its nozzle and watch as your skin and flesh do their best to stay attached to your skeleton. While the old World Dryer purred with a kitten’s warm breath, Xlerator roars like a ferocious lion. It devours wetness.

This baby means business and wet hands don’t stand a chance. “Get dry, bitches! DRY!”

Xlerator is one of the true wonders of the 21st century. It’s what George Jetson might use to dry his hands.

We’ll assume Rosie may have helped him with the toilet tissue duties.

Sometimes the future ain’t so pretty.

I have successfully bid on and now own the rarest baseball EVER. I share this picture with you for posterity’s sake––and to make you envious.

This is the ONLY known baseball signed by a solar system of diverse luminaries including: Vic Tayback (Mel in “Alice”) who threw an 18-hitter for the Pirates against the Reds in ’84. His breaking balls weren’t breaking so well.
Tommy Smothers (Dickie’s little brother) had an unassisted triple play for the Mariners in a ’77 game against the Angels. Smothers didn’t even wear a glove and smoked a pipe of Cherry Blend tobacco throughout the entire game–– even when batting!
Mr. Ed, who in 1964 became the only horse to every steal home plate in a game the Tigers played against the Orioles. He almost trampled O’s catcher John Orsino to death. Orsino ironically had the nickname “horse” and laughed about the incident from his hospital bed. Well, some say it wasn’t laughter so much as moans of agonizing pain and suffering, but the story is still classic. Mr. Ed rarely gave autographs, making this baseball an invaluable sports relic.
Dan Rather hit six home runs playing for the Indians against the Yankees in ’92 (he weighed 278 at the time and looked like the Michelin Man, but it was never proven the newscaster took anabolic steroids– so there!)
Kate Hepburn lept 13 feet over the centerfield wall for the Dodgers to rob Hank Aaron of a home run in ’81 (allegedly, Aaron hasn’t watched any of her movies since!)
Keith Moon. The madman drummer of The Who in 1976 played two innings at shortstop for the Kansas City Royals and compiled nine errors and hurled sick on two umpires. Moon was ejected from the game and immediately bought a tray of ice cold beers.
Paul Lynde, “Mr. Middle” of Hollywood Squares fame pitched six games for the San Francisco Giants in 1973 with an incredible ERA of 0.62. The management of the Giants begged Lynde to join the roster, but he declined. “If I’m going to play games, I’ll play Squares, thank you very much,” he said flippantly adding his trademark cackle. Those fans who saw Lynde pitch said he was an incredible hurler with heat, precision and balls that broke like nobody’s business.
Cher, the woman who defines diva, was the designated hitter for the Yankees in a game against the Royals in ’89. The singer had four at bats with a long drive to left center that was caught, a triple down the right field line, a ground rule double over the centerfield wall and a towering home run into the left field bleachers. “If I weren’t such an incredibly talented singer and gifted natural actor,” she told reporters after the game, “I might just wear some pin stripes full time. They’re slimming on the butt. Hey, Mattingly– buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack, ’cause I don’t care if I never get back!”

Those are just a few of the autographs on this priceless item I now own. I will not disclose how much I paid for this baseball, but let’s just say it was a king’s ransom and a queen’s 401-K. But, I am a tough negotiator– I got the seller to throw in some magic beans. Later I’ll give you a peek at some other famous names on this baseball.

There is a delicious dessert enjoyed while driving on I-85 through South Carolina: The Glorious Gaffney Peach.

This magnificent structure stands as a testament to humanity’s ability to think boldly and imaginatively for the enrichment of all. A water tower as a piece of fruit? Yes, it can be done– no wonder we’re top of the food chain, baby!

Gaffney bills itself as the peach capital of the world, and while I don’t know if that’s true, I do know they have one of the greatest roadside attractions in America. Have a favorite roadside attraction? Please share, tightlips.

For now, come enjoy a drive by on I-85 South past the Glorious Gaffney Peach, a sight that brings tears of joy to my eyes.

Travelers on I-85 north of Atlanta (by the Jimmy Carter Boulevard exit), have been treated to the Great Gwinnett Twin Towers for over four decades. These glorious water towers serve as a beacon to the universe with their simple declarative statements: “GWINNETT IS GREAT” and “SUCCESS LIVES HERE.” Well, water tower fans, scuttlebutt has it that soon the towers are coming down. As a proud resident (a Gwinnetian) I am saddened at the thought.

Driving is boring. Most billboards are ugly and suck. Mother Nature can get repetitive on a long drive (she’s prettty stingy with her Grand Canyons, Niagra Falls, Badlands or Big Surs). Thus, roadside attractions like water towers with pithy thought-proving messages are greatly appreciated. Think about this philosophical question–– is Gwinnett great because Success lives here, or does Success live here because Gwinnett is great? Those are two distinct perspectives are worthy of serious brain wrestling. Yet, soon these majestic towers will soon be gone.

Many in neighboring counties think our towers are boastful. These envious people are happy to see these cherished monuments become memories, but I beg to differ. Gwinnett is great, but that doesn’t diminish our county cousins. I mean, look–– Fulton is fine, DeKalb is decent, Cobb is common, Barrow is bewildering, Hall is helpful, Walton is wistful, Forsyth is funky and Cherokee is cheery.

Now, imagine for a moment you are Success– where would you live?

Gwinnett. Where water towers always speak truth, Gwinnetians are masters of the universe and Success can be seen mowing the lawn, cleaning the gutters or washing the car on Saturdays.

Fair thee well, wise water towers. I shall spout waterworks for you long after you’ve gone.

Yesterday, The Lint Screen received its 100,000th hit.

In 22 months, over 100,000 people (or roaming spam-spewing computers) have come by and collected Lint. Four months ago, I started using ClustrMaps (on the home page) to track the countries of origin for hits. To date, 134 different countries have found their way here. Hello, Ethiopia, Isle of Man, Mauritius, Singapore, Poland, Chile, Australia, Pakistan and 126 others– glad to have you!

100,000 hits pretty much ensures that The Lint Screen is possibly the planet’s most popular website with the words “Lint”, “Screen” and “The” in its title.

It couldn’t have happened without you, dear reader. Thanks for your grazing eyeballs.

Here are a few observations after 195 posts.

1. Satire is an alien concept to many. Much of what I’ve written is satire. It’s sarcastic, ironic, silly smartass stuff that lampoons many of the follies of people in our modern times. But, I’m sad to say, many people have no satirical sense of humor. Too many take everything at face value. It’s a reflection of our times, I’m afraid, when The National Enquirer (which was up for a Pulitzer Prize) and The Daily Show With Jon Stewart do a better job of reporting the news than alleged news outlets do. Unfortunately, traditional media is so riddled with biased points of view and spoon-fed talking points, the masses are lulled into complacency and a diet of information that furnishes the mental attic of their comfortable preconceived beliefs. They take the perspective that if it’s in the media it must be true. No, sometimes there is intentional satire, not reality. Many times I strive for a skewed view that may bring focus to the ridiculousness of a situation. Things are not just black or white, not just politically left or right. Sometimes exposing the extremes shows we need to keep our eyes and minds open. Keep collecting Lint, we’ll work it out and maybe have some laughs along the way.

2. It’s more fun when others play. Writing is a lonely profession. There’s you, the voice in your head and your fingers trying to keep up with its dictation. When you publish something, you’re pitching words into the void. Feedback is always appreciated at The Lint Screen. It doesn’t matter if it’s praise or criticism (although praise tends to go over better in the writer’s room), commentary makes the blogging process a dialogue, and dialogue is always good. Come, talk, share, play, enjoy.

3. Arianna Huffington hates me. I have been banned from commenting on The Huffington Post. Why? Because I often pimp some Lint piece that’s relevant to the story HuffPost is publishing. Some sites don’t allow this, some do. The Huffington Post used to allow me to pimp, but now Arianna and her goon squad are giving me the high-hat. Ironically, I learned this technique for pimping my blog from reading The Huffington Post Complete Guide to Blogging. Arianna, make nice and let’s build some fences between Lint and Huff.

4. Don’t make fun of Susan Boyle and expect to get away with it. One of the most controversial specks of Lint was one I did when the Susan Boyle story first caught fire. I thought it was funny, many did not. Read the comments for a great time.

5. Wisdom works, too. Sometimes I’ll write something that isn’t entertainment or about monkeys or blacksmithing squirrels. It is something flecked with pearls of wisdom about things like job hunting, freelancing, the great Dos Equis Most Interesting Man in The World campaign, the legend of The Swedish Bikini Team for Old Milwaukee or my 19-part series on hip replacements (read them sequentially to enjoy a ride through surgery and recovery– my pain equals your reading pleasure). These things get good commentary and pass around. That warms me like my hand in a bucket of warm water at night.

6. Random is hard. From its inception, The Lint Screen was designed to be random in subject matter. This is a recipe for failure in the blogging world. Experts say that one should position oneself as an expert on a subject and use your blog as the bully pulpit to pontificate and build your empire. It sounded boring to me. So, Lint is intentionally random. The hope was people might like the voice and come back to hear it from time to time. It seems to be working– you’re here and maybe you’ll tell some friends and family about it. Sharing Lint is greatly appreciated. It’s the only way The Lint Screen will spread to all nations.

Thanks for reading and please dive deeper into the archives for interesting Lints you may have missed. Oh, and if you’re a CMO with an ad budget of $100 million (more, or less), please call on Ames Scullin O’Haire. We’ll be happy to help.

Fortunately for little Frankie Urbeenor, he sleeps on a very absorbent pillow. The child cried torrents last night after his visit to The Easter Bunny at the East Waverly Heights Mall in Port Arthur, Texas.

Easter is Frankie’s fifth favorite holiday, after Christmas, his birthday, Halloween and Thanksgiving, so he was looking forward to spending some quality time with Mr. Cottontail. Instead he was subjected to an angry political rant from a bunny who is also a part time Tea Party zealot.

Spectators reported the following exchange took place between Frankie and the Easter Bunny:
BOY: Hello, Easter Bunny!
E. B.: Hello, little boy– what’s your name?
BOY: Frankie. Frankie Urbeenor.
E. B.: Well, Frankie, I suppose you’re happy that Obama and his government thugs have taken over the entire freakin’ health care system.
BOY: Huh?
E. B.: Sure, what do you care, you’re a little kid and you don’t have to pay taxes so just let me work my freakin’ butt off and support little freeloaders like you so you can get sick and have pre-existing conditions, then use death panels to kill my grandma in Beaumont.
BOY: Ummm, I don’t know what you’re…
E.B.: Everyone wants a hand-out, don’t they? You’re all a bunch of socialists. The free market is too tough on you so you want big brother government to spoon feed you entitlement programs, don’t you?
BOY: I’m scared.
E.B.: Of course you are, kid. We should all be scared. The country’s being run by the antichrist, who wasn’t even born in this country, and he wants the government to butt into every aspect of our lives, then try to take away my 85 firearms and arsenal of explosives I have for protection.
BOY: I just want a chocolate bunny for Easter…
E.B.: Sure you do. Chocolate bunnies, jelly beans, marshmallow chicks, silver dollars and PlayStations, too– you want everything! And you want it all for free, don’t you? And why not, it’s no skin off your nose– just ask, ask, ask and expect others to deliver it with a pretty bow to your door. Well, listen up, kid-o, there ain’t no Santie Claus and you can’t have Christmas every Easter. You want a chocolate bunny, you work for it. There’s no freebies in life, buddy boy!
BOY: I want to go home, mister, please…

Fifty-six minutes later, paramedics used the jaws of life to remove the boy from the angry Kung-Fu grip grasp of the Easter Bunny, who was tagged with tranquilizers and taken away in soft handcuffs, designed not to chafe his fur.

Easter may soon drop from the #5 position of Frankie’s favorite holidays.