Is there a particular smell that you love? Not necessarily one that transports you to a certain place and time but one that is here and now and….handy. That’s how it is with me and the sweet, metallic smell of WD-40. It’s like cinnamon rolls and coffee on the back porch except with a more purposeful air.
Here’s the deal. Everyone knows there are two essentials for work to get done; duct tape and WD-40. Every self-respecting garage has them, every mobile work unit from tow trucks to taco trucks has them. Most pick-ups have them rolling around under the seat. Maybe not city pick-ups, poor wannabes that never see a dirt road, but real pick-ups. My question; why is WD-40 so essential? Why not WC-20 or Fred’s Thread Lube? The answer may be more sinister than you first imagine.
Duct tape comes from a variety of manufacturers but not many people get emotionally involved with the brand. But there is no substitute for WD-40, the real deal, the true Bones McCoy. First, it works great. Squeaky hinges no more. Seized threads freed. Condensation rust melted away. Other spray lubricants cannot hold their own against WD-40. You spray twice as much for half the effect.
But there is something else, something in the smell that drives men to choose WD-40 and only WD-40. I contend there is a secret ingredient, a pheromone designed to make a person desire one thing and one thing only in the spray lube category. And it works. While the WD-40 company laughs all the way to the bank, men are turned into helpless pawns of their olfactory senses. I am no exception and so I offer this ode to my…my precious. Continue reading Like Nothing Else: Ode to WD-40→
Editor’s Note: This was one of our top 20 most read essays in 2010. We’re republishing it as we continue through our “revisiting 2010 the ‘best of’ series of 2010.” Thanks.
Like so many others born and raised in the buckle of the Oklahoma “Bible belt,” I was Christianized from an early age. My father was a pastor, and as a PK (Pastor’s Kid), I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Flannel boards, K-Love, VBS, purity rings, Precept Bible Studies, DC Talk, and potluck lunches – all of this just came with the territory.
Somewhere early on, I absorbed the basic Calvinistic idea that the material world, like the material body, was colonized with eeeeviil. Most importantly, I was hard wired for eeeeviill. Every thought, impulse, feeling, and desire contained latent Dionysian energies roiling within them.
I distinctly remember attending a youth bible conference where the speaker confronted us on masturbation. Gulp. Blanch. Awkward. Stare at the floor. Crickets.
I’ve been reading a lot of books and blogs lately on fatherhood and raising girls. From what I’ve read, there seems to be at least five common threads (probably more) running through most of the stuff that really speaks to me. Maybe they’re not really rules. Maybe they’re more like tips… tips, hints, suggestions, guidelines, or something like that. Whatever you call them, in no particular order, here are five:
1. Love her mom. Treat her mother with respect, honor, and a big heaping spoonful of public displays of affection. When she grows up, the odds are good she’ll fall in love with someone who treats her much like you treated her mother. Good or bad, that’s just the way it is. I’d prefer good. Continue reading Five Rules for Dads Raising Daughters→
There is a lot to be said for music that makes listening fun. A lot of folks really take themselves and their music WAY too seriously. There is also a lot to be said for music that you stumble across accidentally.
Yahoo! used to have a “radio” website and one of the stations they offered was called Americana. I love just about anything categorized as Americana so I tried out the station and was introduced to all sorts of artists I’d never heard on commercial, broadcast radio. And are they missing out! Consequently, the rest of us may also be.
So, in an effort to…no, to heck with the grandiosity. We’re in the man cave so I’ll try to keep it real.
This song is a short little blast of joy called “If I Could” from an artist named Sunny Sweeney that is part rave-up, part rockabilly and a whole lotta toe-tappin’. Let me know what you think!
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