Just one word. Velcro. My future is in Velcro. Literally. I’m surrounded by the stuff, more and more of it. Surrounded by its harsh ripping sounds; the tattered sweater surfaces it’s destroyed; the scratchy texture like the hide of an animal you never ever want to meet, I have reconciled myself to the fact that, unpleasantness aside, Velcro is holding me together.
It holds the microwaveable heating pad around my waist to strap 180 degrees of comfort onto my lower back. It keeps a smaller, bead-filled heating pad attached to my shoulder and neck because my entire right arm has gone numb due to age-related disk deterioration. (Thank you doctor, but I might have guessed deterioration was age related.)
It also keeps that flattering chinstrap in place so I don’t snore like a sailor or an old lady, thereby keeping my husband awake. The chinstrap (upper right) is a like a jockstrap for the face. Imagine how beautiful I look in it. Keeping John from seeing me wearing it requires lightning fast reflexes on the lamp switches and a magician’s prestidigitation skills to whip off the strap in a hot instant.
My next purchase will be the Velcro face-lift, a device that attaches to all that sagging stuff on your face and fastens it all up at the top of your head, under an attractive hat. Then there will be the Velcro-strapped IV for portability. And the Velcro-fastened sneakers when I can no longer tie my shoes. (Dear Jesus, please forgive me for not letting little Jackson wear them because children need to learn to tie a damn shoelace; what, they’re going to wear Velcro shoes when they’re 35?)
But yesterday as I was complaining about all the catching and snagging and horrific noises that come with the, yes, age-related encroachment of Velcro, John pointed out that it was the very thing that keeps your leash attached to your surfboard and to your leg.
So yeah, despite the fact that its increasing abundance in my life is overall a bad sign, I say there’s a great future in Velcro. Think about it.
(Fun fact: A Swiss engineer named George de Mestral, inspired by the burrs that got stuck on his clothes and dog after a walk in the woods, turned this annoying sticky attribute into a system of fasteners.)