Patent Leather Shoes

What is the one patent number that you have probably encountered — or at least read — the most?

It’s something that is in front of you almost every time you use the product.  And it’s something you probably read every time you see it, because you have nothing better to do at the time.

It usually involves text like “Reduces the risk of disease transmission through paper towel waste”.  And “120 V 60 Hz”.

That’s right.  Hot air hand dryers, found in every public restroom in the country.  You’re standing there, facing the wall, knowing that the thing will shut off when your hands are only about 85% dry (which leaves you wondering whether running it another 10 seconds wouldn’t be cheaper than making you press the button again and running it for another full 60 seconds every single time).  With nothing else to do, you read the metal plate on the dryer, which has the exact same text you’ve read on a hundred other dryers a hundred other times.  Including the patent number.

Eventually, you start to memorize that shit.

Patent no. 2553846.  Other patents pending.  (Haven’t the other ones been processed by now?  It’s been years!)

Shoot me now.

(There’s an additional patent number listed on about 1/8 of the dryers.  That one, I’m happy to say, I don’t have memorized.  And maybe 1/4 of the dryers — all from one manufacturer — don’t list the numbers at all.)

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Updated on March 9, 2004

Updated on December 23, 2010
 

Mutant Trivial Pursuit

No, this has nothing to do with X2: X-Men United.

Back in my college days (1984-1990, including grad school), Trivial Pursuit was in high flower.  The original Genus Edition had been out for a while and we were just starting to see all the various sub-editions (Silver Screen, etc.), plus all the card sets put out by other companies which could be used with the game (I remember a religious one, and I know there were others).

My college crew had been playing Trivial Pursuit for a few years, and by then, most of us had gone through the entire original card set: mostly legally, although some people had just sat down to read every question/answer pair in the set.  So the game itself was getting a little boring.  Until we came up with our own spin on the game: Mutant Trivial Pursuit!

Here are the rules:

• Everyone takes a stack of cards (50 or 100, maybe; it doesn’t really matter).
• Choose one person to be the first reader.
• The reader chooses a question from his or her top card and reads it aloud.
• Everyone else chooses the “best” (funniest, usually) answer from their top card.
• The reader (or group consensus) chooses the “winner” from the answers provided, and that person becomes the next reader.

A guideline for choosing what question to use:

• Avoid questions whose correct answer is a number; many cards will have no adequate answer.

Some guidelines for choosing what answer to use:

• A truly correct answer (it happens) always wins.
• Answers involving dead presidents or sex are good choices.
• Answers which are numbers don’t usually work.

Some of our best mutant question/answer pairs:

• What do you throw into a boxing ring to stop the fight?
  — John F. Kennedy.  (Guaranteed to work, no?)
• What is receding from the Earth at a foot per year?
  — A brassiere.
• What is the symbol for the zodiac sign Gemini?
  — Testicles.  (Twins, eh?)

(You can also reverse the game, of course, and read an answer, with the other players offering the best question.  That’s Mutant Jeopardy!, though.)

Note that there is no score kept and no overall winner (although you certainly could score based on how many rounds each person won).  The point is to have an hour or so of offbeat hilarity.
 

The Millennium

There has been way too much flap about the “end of the millennium”: is it the bridge between 1999 and 200, or between 2000 and 2001?

First, that’s “millennium”.  Two “n”s.  Most misspelled word of 1999.  (And 2000.)

Second, a millennium ends December 31, 2000.  Another one ends tonight.  A somewhat different millennium begins on June 3, 2004.

Third, it’s all post-dated crap anyway.  “There was no Year Zero” tout the millenniumists.  “Big whoop,” I say.  “There was no Year One, either.”

In about 532 AD of our current counting, some monk backdated events and declared a numbering system which would start with Christ being born at the start of Year One (which equated to something like Roman year 750 — look it up if you want it exact).  Alas, he got it wrong.  (Does anyone still believe that other religious figure who determined that the world was created in 4004 BC?  If not, why do we weight this guy’s figures so strongly?)  Based on historical records, Christ would have been born no later than 4 BC (by that calendar) — which means the “millennium” happened in 1996, and we all missed it!

Further, we celebrate Christ’s birthday a week before the first day of the new year, which twigs the calendar off by another week.  But shepherds watched their flocks by night — to protect the lambs — which means Christ would have been born in, say, April.  (April 15: now there’s a good day to celebrate!)  And a couple hundred years ago, they “fixed” the calendar and shifted it by a couple weeks to account for proper leap year differences (causing the late-to-adopt Russians to have their October Revolution in November).

(Side Note: Christmas is situated in December because every other religion in the area had a winter solstice celebration, so the early Christians could hide their big one by doing it when others did theirs.  The “reason for the season” isn’t Jesus, it’s to avoid persecution!)

So, as you can see, December 31, 2000 is approximately 2000 years after absolutely nothing of significance.

At the end of December 31, 1999, however, we saw a whole bunch of digits flip over.  We concluded all years starting with “1” and started all years starting with “2”.  We held our collective breath about Y2K (and wasn’t that a yawner?).  In comparison, what is interesting about the cusp of the 2000/2001 switch?  Other than ushering in the Arthur C. Clarke year, will there be anything non-(faked up-)religious to “wow” about?  We’ll have concluded what is termed the 20th century (and whether the year numbers are “right” or not, the number of years that have passed will be fairly firm and consistent) at least, but the number switch a year before will have taken so much of the wind out of the sails that it will be rather a denouement.

Your best bet: celebrate both dates — hedge your bets — and heck, celebrate for the entire year!  Just don’t play that damn Prince song any more.

(For the record: if the “second millennium” — if you want to call it that — doesn’t end until the conclusion of the year 2000, neither does the “twentieth century.”  We haven’t hit the 21st Century quite yet, folks!)

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Updated on October 10, 2000