Tide Pod Challenge

Dear Old Phart,

I keep reading about the Tide Pod Challenge where teens dare each other to place a Tide detergent pod in their mouth for as long as they can while they video what they are doing. When I was a kid, we used to swallow gold fish–it was a lot healthier!

What’s wrong with kids these days?

Big Gulp

Dear Big Gulp,

I can’t tell you what is wrong with kids these days, but I can tell my readers how dangerous it is to ingest a detergent pod. What really bothers me however is that the main-stream media is missing the bigger story here; the media just focuses on the dangers of eating Tide pods–there are a whole lot of other things they should be warning people not to do with a detergent pod.

So as a service to my readers, I will list some of the things one should not do with a Tide detergent pod:

  1. Don’t use a Tide pod as a suppository.
  2. Don’t use a Tide pod as a replacement for your glass eye. (Although it would look way cool!)
  3. Don’t use a Tide pod as a replacement for those pills people slip into drinks to render their victim unconscious or kill them. Your victim will be screaming hysterically before the pod has its desired effect. (You listening to this Bill Cosby?)
  4.  Don’t use a Tide pod as a replacement for a Halloween treat when you run out of candy. How stupid can you be? Kids don’t do laundry!
  5.  Don’t use a Tide pod as a replacement for the miniature candy you stole from the assorted chocolate gift box. It’s a good way to lose a girlfriend.
  6. Don’t use a Tide pod as a hand sanitizer.  It actually works really well  but you can only do it once. After the first time you use it, you have no more hand skin left to sanitize.

And last but not least,

7. Don’t use Tide pods to do laundry. Get off you fat patootie and pour regular detergent into a measuring cup. What are you thinking having something as potentially dangerous as a Tide detergent pod laying around the house? That would be like having an unsecured loaded handgun laying around a house full of kids. Oh…you have kids and you do have a loaded gun laying around your house? Hmm, maybe you should use a Tide pod as a suppository.

Old Phart

 

Prodigal Son

Dear Old Phart,

My husband and I are hard working, God fearing, Kansas farmers. Our problem is the youngest son. He’s not like the rest of us. He wears fancy jeans, uses product in his hair and likes to cook! My husband and I have spent many sleepless nights discussing what is wrong with him.

I even hate writing the word but we have our suspicions. Yes, we think our son may be metrosexual. What should we do?

At Wit’s End

Dear At Wit’s End:

I can clearly see what’s keeping you up at night. I personally didn’t have a challenge with metrosexuality when I was young.  As a kid, I was a slob. My parents didn’t have to worry about me cooking, cleaning or looking presentable. When company came over, they just shut the door to my room — with me in it.

But I think I can help. First, don’t panic…your son may not be metrosexual, you need to find out first.

As a test, have him cook up some chicken fried steak with gravy. Now this is the important part: check the gravy.

Is it lumpy like a normal person should like gravy or does your son purée it? If the gravy is smooth as silk, well that’s not a good sign.  Also, how does he season the gravy? Does he use regular seasoning like salt and  pepper or, god forbid, does he use exotic spices like paprika and chili flakes?  If you see any red stuff floating in the gravy…well…again not a good sign.

I’m sure you are worried about metrosexuality because you are good church-going Christians. But do not panic. Jesus says nothing about metrosexuality in the Bible. Also Jesus and his twelve disciples were grown men but only one could be confirmed as being married–so eleven of the twelve definitely were not metrosexual!

Now John the Baptist might have been. He was married, was a firm proponent of heterosexual marriage and had a hang-up about keeping clean and taking baths.  So he might have been a metrosexual.

Now if you do confirm your son is a metrosexual, take a deep breath. I am told on good authority that metrosexuality skips a generation. So you do not have to worry about your grandchildren.

Grandpa however is an entirely different story…how does he like his gravy?

Old Phart

Raffi

Dear Old Phart,

I am a former singer of children’s songs who made millions of dollars singing to youngsters. At one time I was known as the most popular children’s singer in the English world. But that was not where my heart was; I wanted to sing folk tunes to adults. So I switched to adult folk singing and went from producing gold records to albums no one listened to.  I know I can’t go back to what I used to be but the new me is a flop. What should I do?

The Artist Formerly Known As Raffi*

Dear The Artist Formerly Known As Raffi,

My heart goes out to you. You follow your heart and find only disappointment. It is soul crushing. It must feel like “An elephant sat on Raffi!” — to borrow a lyric from one of your children’s song.

Raffi baby, don’t follow your heart, follow your wallet. Millions of parents like me played your songs endlessly to our children, nieces, nephews, children’s friends, etc. We couldn’t take a trip to the store, let alone a trip across country, without playing your songs to soothe the savage beasts in the back seat.

Now with grandchildren I will have to play those same songs again and again and again. I feel that if I have to play “Baby Beluga” one more time I’m going to have to go “down by the bay where the watermelons grow” and drown myself.

We need new material! But it is true you can’t go back. So this is what you are going to do. You’re going to dress up in a dress and pretend you are a woman. Change your name from Raffi to Taffi. And start producing new songs for the next generation of munchkins to be anesthetized by.

And why should you do this? “Because the more we get together, the happier we’ll be.” Now start plucking your chin hairs!

Old Phart

*p.s. This letter isn’t really from the artist formerly known as Raffi. I made it up. I just had to “shake my sillies out.”