Wrestling with plastic

Wrestling with plastic

& other tales from

the crazed side

It's a sheer freak of nature that I'm able to type any kind of piece this week due to the following saga.

I came very close to having a nervous breakdown today and also did vast bodily harm to my wrists, fingers, lower arms and facial muscles.

No, I didn't incur the injuries whilst lifting weights or by wrestling wildly with my remote control.

I did nothing to deserve the above-mentioned fate. All I did was attempt to open a couple of “cartons.” One held a new, small, electronic device, and the other was the resting place for edibles.

Bet you a dime you too have encountered the following absolutely true story.

I'm not much for conspiracy theories but, in this case, I'm thinking there is a major one when it comes to how items are packaged in this day and age.

I'm convinced that the seller really does not want the buyer to break into said casing for some odd reason. I'm certain that the Defense Department is behind this or, at the very least, Bush is to blame in some way, shape or form.

What's the deal? Good gravy. By the time a person is able to unlock the mysteries of jimmying a plastic “thing” holding a Christmas present hostage, for example, Baby New Year has graduated college.

Why, why, why? I ask you.

After I gathered together my knife, scissors, box cutter, sledge hammer, crowbar and blow torch for the task at hand, it was time to prepare dinner. I had to set that project aside and head to the kitchen to create a totally home cooked meal from stem to stern.

I so adore making everything from scratch and I jumped at the chance to vacate my office region in order to ensure that the family had a delicious and nutritious meal as soon as possible.

Did you buy that? Was I in the least bit convincing? Give me credit for the attempt.

I entered the kitchen, opened the fridge and decided to whip up some thick slices of meat for Perpetual, (fiance), as he's a caveman and that's all he requires in life.

The nightmare really picked up at that point because the deceased animal in question was contained in one of those zip top “peel here” kind of contraptions.

You might wonder why on Earth this would throw me into the aerobic state or, more literally, place me in the hands of mental health specialists.

Well, have you ever had the “pleasure” of dealing with those “very simple to open” zip lock thingamabobs?

It's beyond hideous. First of all, one needs to have a magnifying glass just to see exactly where the darn thing allegedly separates enough to pull back gently. Then, once the death is finally removed from said packet and it's time to close it. Just try, I beg you, to lock that bag on the first attempt. I DOUBLE DOG DARE YOU!

By the time I was done with the procedure, “gently” was hardly a word that could be used to describe the scene.

The child was even stirred from his cave when he heard the delightful language emitting from the kitchen region. (Believe me, it takes a miracle to extract a teenage kid from his room for any reason under the sun, unless it's feeding time.)

Moving along, I've come to realize, in my now middle age, that any kind of canister that has wording like, “Easy Open,” “Tear Here,” or “Simple Seal” is something that must be avoided at all costs. Warning: Do not purchase anything of the sort.

Actually, it's impossible to avoid this but, heed my words of wisdom here since they are so far and few between—the wisdom part of course, not the words.

Do not follow the useless directions about how to open the container holding the meat, MP3 headphones, frozen foods, computer mouse, or any other “freshly bought” item

Avoid the heartache, possible hospitalization, visits from the police for disturbing the peace and sore facial muscles from making that goofy “this is impossible to open” kind of grimace, just to name a few possible outcomes.

Simply utilize the tools I mentioned at the beginning of this column for real prying-open-of- packages-pleasure.

Whew! Clearly this has driven me to the precipice of derangement. (That's the excuse I'm using this week anyway.)

I'm off to retrieve my hatchet and jackhammer as it's time to fix dinner. Oh, if you see the roof blowing off my house, no worries. I just got a new digital camera, along with some dynamite thrown in for good measure.