I have often wondered in adulthood why it was that back in grade school when we children had to use the restroom (a euphemism for bathroom which is a euphemism for the place where you go to relieve yourself which is a euphemism for..see what I mean?) we had to not only ask the teacher’s permission, but had to announce our specific need by putting up one finger or two.

How dumb.  If you “gotta go, you gotta go” and what difference does it make if you are being called to liquidate your assets or to take a firm approach to the issue?

The reason I’m thinking about this today is because I have a great money making plan that I want to bounce off you, and I need to avoid being crude in describing it so I have to use a euphemism.

Early this morning my friends Dr. Routemeister, Dr. Ciderman, Dr. Loggerhead and I headed out for our normal Saturday outing.  For the first time in 2 ½ months, there was not enough snow to cross-country ski, so we were happily back on our bicycles again for  a 25 mile ride. The roads were clear and dry.  It was a lovely morning and the deer were grazing in the fields.

The only issues we had to contend with were the 13 degree temperature and the 16 mph wind gusting to 28, which put the wind-chill index down around negative 10 degrees.

The other thing with riding into the wind, which we did all the way home, is that it slows you down.  It is like riding uphill all the way.  During one particularly ferocious gust, we were riding down a nice hill and actually had to pedal to get to the bottom.

Anyone who reads these columns regularly knows that I love the winter, love the cold, and hate hot weather. But, loving THE cold does not mean that I love to BE cold.  Fortunately, the only parts of me that got cold this morning were the tip of one finger where the lining of my glove was missing and whichever side of my head was facing the wind and allowing the cold air into the vent-holes of my helmet.

Now comes my money-making idea.  It came to me as I stood in the hot shower after the ride and discovered that I had indeed frozen my  tushy off.  It was gone.

I got on the phone and called my friends and found that indeed, not one of us is any longer blessed with a rump steak, a posterior, a gluteus maximus, a buttoski, an arse. All frozen off and gone forever.

What I want to develop is a chain of drive-through prosthetic-tushy stores all across the frozen north.  What a great business to be in!  You’d only have to work from December through February.  You could charge whatever you wish and people would pay it, or go through life tushy-less. 

“Welcome to the Acme Prosthetic Rear-End Store.  We are sorry you froze yours off, but we are here to serve.  Let me show you our special today----it comes in five different colors, and also in plaid, paisley, and stripes for the more adventurous. And, best of all, this particular model is heated! ” 

I’m telling you, this store would be a huge success.

“This particular model is called the Pita Bread Standard.  You’ll notice it is quite flat.  Or, if you prefer, we have the  1938 Packard model, which you’ll see is reminiscent of the rounded fenders of that famous automobile.”

I’m going to make millions on this idea.

In the summer months, I may even move my operations to Miami and other southern cities. 

“Man, oh, man, it is H-O-T outside today!  I’m sweating my biscuits off!”

                            © by Jim Whitehouse

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