I read an article the other day that said police have a plethora of equipment available to peek inside our homes, our cars, and even our clothing, without physically doing so. The technology has been around for years, but it’s filtering down to even small town police forces. Talk about invasive!
“Gee willikers, Mr. Kent. Does that mean Superman is not the only member of the law enforcement community with X-ray vision?”
“That’s right, Jimmy and you know what that means.”
“No, don’t make me say it.”
“Yes, your mother was right. You should always wear clean underwear.”
Oh, how Europeans have scoffed at us Americans for obsessing on being clean. Showering every day! Deodorants, powders, soaps, shaving our pits and legs (although British men seem to be comfortable doing this). “Those Americans, Ha ha. How silly.”
But who’s laughing now? Our dedicated boys in blue can look right through our clothes! Fortunately, I am prepared.
A week ago, looking around my shower, I noticed I have five different kinds of soap in there. And I live alone. Can you imagine if I was obsessive compulsive? Maybe the French are right, I thought.
I’ve got shampoo, which is liquid soap. Conditioner, which is like shampoo but they charge more money for it. Kind of like drinks at a strip club.
I’ve got special soap for my face—$20.00 for one bar. That plastic container was free. I thought the soap was expensive when I bought it, but I’ve had it now for 7 years. Apparently “Clinique” is French for “soap that never melts.” I’ve moved it through three different states. I think it’s going to be my first antique. My girlfriend bought a bar at the same time and hers was gone in two days. Of course, she has a husband, four kids, and a dog with beautiful pores.
I’ve got Ivory soap. 99 and 44/100ths per cent pure. Which is just like me.
I’m proud to say I do not own ANY little decorative soaps like my mom use to have on display and which carried a life sentence if you actually used one. I have plenty of other things that collect dust in my house.
And body wash, with the poofy net applicator for sloughing off dead skin cells. Now I am all for sloughing off dead skin, especially if it means I’m losing pounds and inches, no matter how microscopic the difference.
Then there’s the spray bottle of Scrubbing Bubbles. For…the soap scum buildup! Never clean your shower again! But does it really work? Face it, it’s not really a shower cleaner. You just feel less guilty about not cleaning the shower. It’s a conscience cleaner.
We haven’t even gone into the lotions and facial masks, moisturizers, firming gels, Preparation H (don’t ask), tweezers, clippers, chain saws, polishes, waxing, sugaring, and electrolysis kits.
I did try some of those strips you put across your nose. They didn’t unclog my pores but I no longer snore.
Of course, we’ve always been on solid ground when it came to dental hygiene. Toothpastes, gels, floss, Waterpiks™, mouthwash, plaque preventers, and gingivitis terminators. Overkill? One look at Austin Powers’ mouth is enough to convince anyone of the value of dental hygiene.
And now, thanks to law enforcement’s prying eyes, we no longer have to be embarrassed by the amount of money we spend keeping ourselves clean, sweet-smelling, and hairlessly sleek. Law enforcement personnel all over the country have justified the expense, the time, and effort that we put into personal grooming.
But wait! If they can see through wood, brick, and other materials that means they can see right into my house. I have got to clean my house! And not just when company comes. Usually this honor was reserved for when my mother came to visit. Now I have to have the place picked up all the time! I hate this! I cannot and will not tolerate this insidious invasion of privacy.
Cleanliness used to be next to Godliness. Now it’s next to imperative. But until we can put curbs on law enforcement to stop them from detecting our dust bunnies and our run-laden hosiery, we have got to clean up our acts. So make your mother proud. Wear clean underwear.