Is it just me or do others celebrate the end of the holiday? I’m not trying to be rude to Baby Jesus or you holiday lovers, but that is just a taxing month. Here me out here, but I’d trade any manufactured Christmas moment with my family with a random gathering of family in April or May. Maybe I’m just not normal.
I celebrated the holiday by contracting some virus positioned on the serious scale between the common cold and Stage 5 COVID. I am producing phlegm at the rate Tyreek Hill produces babies. You don’t care about this, but I do, and Foley makes me write this column either way, so this is what you get to read, just lower your expectations.
Anyway, I’m sick and I’m a huge baby when I’m sick. My lips are the color of Rudolph’s nose, and my nose looks like I’ve been drinking McCormick Vodka daily for 30 years. This has made me wonder about Kleenex. Who the heck came up with that idea?
Turns out that Kleenex is not attributed to any one person. Per my operation of the Google contraption, Kleenex was first introduced by the Kimberly-Clark company when they adapted Kotex into a thinner, softer crepe paper and dubbed it Kleenex, presumably to prevent any embarrassing mix-ups.
I’m not sure I can explain that any further. Do your own research, I’m not your graduate assistant.
In case you want to impress your friends at a New Year’s Eve Party, Kotex was originally a crepe paper that was utilized in gas masks during World War I and in the 1920’s some smart lady (I assume it was a female) said, “Hey, this would be a good sanitary pad for women.”
There you have the history of crepe paper, you’re welcome, there’s a reason this newspaper is not free!
Honestly, what man at Kimberly-Clark in 1925 who valued his life would have questioned that idea by saying “that’s a stupid idea.” The rest is history and that is why we now have Kleenex, another success for the American corporate male.
Anyway, back to my illness. I spent Christmas Eve preparing for my imminent death and recovered enough to fake my way through Christmas Day. It was quite a sacrifice on my part. Not really have your son nailed to a cross-level sacrifice, but in the upper percentiles in my mind. I’ve survived with a steady supply of Mucinex, Cepacol throat lozenges, Tylenol, and Facebook. I did a Teladoc call at 2 a.m. Christmas Eve morning. Some “husky” disshelved doctor met up with me on the computer and basically told me I had a viral infection and to quit being a baby. I’m thinking he might have been drinking because I obviously was sicker than he summarized. Anway, I was bored, and it was nice to talk to someone.
Welcome to the New Year, probably same old me and such, consistency is a virtue.
(Guy Speckman can be reached recovering from Stage 5 COVID with an ample supply of Kleenex)
