Of Snakes Sex Playing in the Rain, Random Thou

by Clay Reynolds

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  The government has been busy in its assembly of warnings, especially in the last few decades. Almost everything we do has some potential danger that we need to know about. One of the first was our use of saccharin. People were happily substituting this chemical sweetener in place of refined sugar because somebody somewhere decided that sugar was harmful to one’s health. (Not incidentally, our government also decided to boycott Cuban sugar, one of its more decisive moves that, like most government moves, was ineffective, except to raise the cost of sugar to American consumers, most of whom didn’t know—or care—where Cuba was in the first place and who, in the second place, were satisfied with saccharin.) Anyway, saccharin worked; it helped keep unwanted pounds off fat people and anxiety levels down among those who liked a bit of sweetness to their morning cup of Joe or bottled soft drink. Then some scientific institute somewhere spent a whole bunch of government money and discovered that if a laboratory rat ate sixty-two-and-a-half pounds of saccharin at one sitting, he would develop cancer. Or maybe he would have complications during pregnancy. Of course, sixty-two-and-a-half pounds of saccharin represented something like ten thousand times the average human’s consumption of the product in a seventy-year period; and anyone who eats sixty-two-and-a-half pounds of anything at one sitting probably deserves to get sick. But we had to be careful, so saccharin also started carrying a warning label.

  That was more than fifty years ago. Now, almost everything comes with a warning label, even things that probably don’t need any cautionary admonishments at all. Take guns, for example. If you buy a handgun, say a .38 Special, you will find in the box a slip of paper that reads: “Discharge of this firearm can result in injury or even death.” Well, one would hope so. It is, after all, a pistol. It’s only practical function (other than to make the user feel as if his penis is five times its ordinary size) is to visit injury or death on someone toward whom it’s pointed. If it didn’t, then it would be a disappointment to the shooter; actually, if it didn’t, the result could be injury or even death to the shooter, particularly if the shooter was a law enforcement officer throwing down on, say, an alleged bank robber, or possibly a sleep system tag remover. What kind of person would want a pistol that would fail to cause injury or even death? I’m the sort of person who doesn’t want to cause anyone any injury or death, and I’m content with the anatomy I was born with, so I don’t buy handguns; but if I did, I would hope they’d do what they’re supposed to do, whether they’re used properly or not.

  Still, the march for warnings continues. Not long ago, I received a power drill for Father’s Day. Right on the front of the owner’s manual, in huge block letters, I was informed that “use of this product under water can result in possibly deadly shock or severe injury.” I am willing to accept the probability that someone somewhere wants to drill something under water, but one would presume that such a person would be familiar with tools for underwater use. How often, I wonder, does some gomer grab his standard power drill and head out for the nearest lake or river, eager to get in a little submerged carpentry before supper? Is this warning really necessary?

  Apparently so. Today, warning labels about the use of products in water are found on all kinds of things: plasma screen television sets, CD and DVD players, electric hedge clippers, even computers. Alarm clocks, cordless phones, flashlights, exercise treadmills, ceiling fans, and blood-pressure monitoring machines all arrive in packaging carrying stern warnings against use under water. This suggests that millions of Americans buy these products and immediately start looking for a hot tub to dive into to try them out. Perhaps the only thing stopping them are the warning labels.

  Of course, the labels aren’t there for the consumer. They’re there for the manufacturer who fears being sued by the bereaved family of some idiot who actually thought that sending and receiving faxes from an inflatable floatie in the backyard pool was a good idea. We are a litigious society, and people will sue at the drop of a hot cup of coffee, as we have learned. The courts have demonstrated that if a person is not warned that stupid behavior might result in injury or death, then the injured or dead party is indemnified from responsibility for whatever happens to him.

  Where will this all lead? We already have child-proof cigarette lighters and medicine bottles, mandatory bicycle helmets, and headlights that come on automatically, even in daylight. Many vehicles will not start unless the driver’s foot is on the brake and the car is in PARK. (The doors on my car lock automatically when the car is in motion, and some models automatically put your seatbelt on for you when you shut the door.) We have mandatory shoulder harnesses and airbags, each installed to protect us from injury or death; each is accompanied by a strict warning that misuse could result in injury or death. That sort of seems like a trade-off. The sun visor in my truck is plastered with warnings about trying to tow something without a proper hitch and driving at excessive speed when using four-wheel drive on an unstable surface, even though my vehicle doesn’t have four-wheel drive and I almost never leave the highway, as my tires came with warnings about driving them off the road. The owner’s manual is full of cautions about the use of the seat recliner, the steering wheel adjuster, the electric windows, the hood latch, the emergency brake, and most every other part on the car. There are also warnings about trying to drive under water. About the only thing on a car that doesn’t have a warning about proper use of is the car itself. Ironically, that’s the most commonly misused item in the equation.

  Bicycles and roller skates, scooters and snow and water skis come with stern cautions about the perils of misuse. My lawnmower has a sign on it that advises me to keep hands and feet away from it if it’s running, a caution that, if observed, makes cutting the grass impossible to do, which, I confess, is fine by me. I also am cautioned against using it under water. A bag of top soil I was generously spreading around our tomato patch carries an advisory against “handling the contents without gloves”—I’m trying to grow vegetables in this stuff, so I checked the label for a “list of ingredients.” It read: “Dirt.” Even coffee pots and toasters and microwave ovens arrive with commanding admonitions not to place them in certain locations or use under certain conditions, such as a loss of electrical power or—again—under water. When was the last time you whipped up supper while soaking in a kids’ wading pool during a rolling blackout?

  I find that many cooking utensils such as ordinary skillets and pots are accompanied by warnings, as well. I recently purchased a new spatula that carried a caution not to attempt to “overburden the torque” of the handle for fear it might snap off and injure me when the food I was lifting was catapulted to my face. It said nothing about use with eggs, which is somewhat discomforting, since eggs, all by themselves, now constitute a clear and present danger to consumers.

  Kids’ plastic wading pools come with warnings, too, as do most toys—this seems remarkably useless for those items designed for preschoolers. If the toys arrive in the mail, the excelsior that pads them from breakage has warnings posted all over it. I noticed a football had a warning label that suggested “misuse could cause injury,” which I decided must pertain to the sport, not the ball. I even have a couple of board games (including the time-honored Scrabble) that have inserts cautioning me to keep game pieces away from my eyes and out of my mouth or ear. This is a disappointment, as hiding extra vowels under my tongue has been a standard part of my winning strategy for years.

  When my son played baseball, his batting helmet also had a warning stenciled on the inside cautioning against “misuse.” How, I wondered, could one misuse a batting helmet? I guess he could take it off and throw it at the umpire in a fit of pique over a disputed call; but otherwise, I was flummoxed. His glove carried no such warning. This may well have been an oversight.

  I recently replaced a toilet in one of our bathrooms. The “bathroom appliance” (that’s what you call a toilet, these days) came with a stiff warning, cautioning me that “Misuse of this Product Can Result in Serious
Injury.” I paused to consider before bolting it to the floor. How, I wondered, can anyone “misuse” a toilet? I remember reading once about a lady in Fort Worth who chased her husband around their mobile home park with the top of their toilet’s water tank. She was intent on braining him with it if she ever caught up to him, which she didn’t. I suppose that constitutes “misuse.” But I understood that the porcelain piece was handier than a hammer or a baseball bat; frankly, I think that, as the proverbial “blunt instrument,” a toilet tank’s top was probably not the item of choice, since those suckers are heavy and hard to grip. Hammers and baseball bats also come with warnings about “misuse,” by the way; they might have discouraged her, if she stopped to read them.

  Schools and their classes carry warning labels. Pupils are admonished that bad behavior and inappropriate dress can result in suspension or expulsion. University students are officially advised that failure to attend class or turn in assignments on time or at all “may result in grade penalty” [italics mine]. Credit cards, which are cheerfully and enthusiastically offered to people with no income at all, arrive with pages of fine print detailing the horrors that will be visited on anyone who even thinks about missing or being late with a payment. Even mail order catalogues carry notations that not all advertised merchandise may be available and that prices are subject to change without notice.

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  Many things should carry warning labels, but don’t; or they advise us to be wary of the wrong dangers. Even though cautions are put on movies, popular music, video games, and some television programming, they only warn us about harsh language, violence, nudity, and sexual explicitness, stuff that most kids can observe around the house or at school every day. Indeed most of them can’t avoid observing it, and often, at both places, but we are worried that they might see or hear it through a monitor or speaker, as well. There are, though, no warnings about the possibility that watching such mindless gunk as reality television and game shows and C-Span might cause a numbing of thought processes to the extent that originality or creativity might be permanently impaired; if indulgence is excessive, one’s muscles might atrophy to the consistency of a hot bowl of mush. A warning is, I think, something that especially should appear on televised sports events, especially football games, golf, and NASCAR races. Entire colonies of laboratory animals have likely been reduced to drooling catatonia because of excessive exposure to much of the drivel that passes for televised entertainment these days. Thus far, though, no warning labels have been issued.

  Marriage, now that I think about it, probably should carry a warning label. About seventy-five percent of all marriages end in divorce; the rest end in death. Overall, it’s a low percentage move, even when it’s used properly. As a nuptial couple approaches the government licensing bureau to obtain their permit to marry, they should be confronted with relevant warnings: “This action, if improperly taken, could result in frustration, anger, and general feelings of entrapment and helplessness as well as unpleasant obligation and mutual dissatisfaction; side effects could include adultery, physical or psychological abuse or injury—even untimely death—alienation of friends and immediate family (especially in-laws), mental cruelty, abandonment, financial ruin, exposure of embarrassing secrets, revelations of inadequacy, rejection, and depression, or children.” There might even be a coda advising against serious discussions following intercourse. Smoking silently in the dark might be recommended as a safer alternative.

  Children definitely should come with warning labels, as well: “Warning: This child will be potentially subject to a variety of illnesses, developmental short-comings, inability to meet unreasonable expectations, and failure to be fully appreciative. There’s a chance it will also wind up ugly and not very smart and may never leave home. Maintenance expenses will advance in proportion to age, and demands for time and energy will be burdensome to the point of bankruptcy and exhaustion. If not properly attended, reared, supported, educated, and loved, it may break your heart and probably will anyway.”

  Children most usually are the result of sexual intercourse of one sort of another, and sex, of course, does carry warnings. Even though we are bombarded with ads for pharmaceutical products that will increase, revive, lengthen, even develop stunted, forgotten, or inadequate sexual response—or create sexual initiative where none existed before—each with a full thirty-second disclaimer that the drug may have startling side-effects (“Erections lasting more than two days are abnormal and require medical attention,” one ad says. I should think so.)—we are encouraged to brow-beat our doctors into prescribing them for us. Otherwise, we may be in danger of an unfulfilled life. Like laxatives, underarm deodorant, foot-odor products, shaving implements, and remedies for incontinence, indigestion, ugly toenails, dull teeth, hair loss, and bad breath, these ads assure us that the use of these potentially dangerous products (and avoidance of all their possible side effects) correctly will result in all of us donning comfortable yet fashionable casual wear, sitting next to some handsome or beautiful partner in an Adirondack chair on a sturdy deck overlooking a gorgeous sunset over a shimmering body of water while we sip Mai Tais and contemplate buying sailboats or luxury cars. To have such a fulfilling experience is clearly worth the risk of abiding by the warning labels.

  Of course, the same results can be achieved by imbibing the correct brand of beer, or so we’re assured by the breweries, even though every can of beer sold boasts a warning label advising the drinker that the beverage contained within might cause birth defects and could impair ability to drive a vehicle or operate heavy machinery, activities beer drinkers regularly try to do. To date, there has been no laboratory evidence, however, that any tipplers have ever read one of these labels, let alone been discouraged from drinking a beer because of it. Most, actually, see the liquid they’re drinking as a far more reliable avenue to sexual fulfillment with that beautiful or handsome partner than taking some Nutra-Sweet-coated pill. After all, there’s still wisdom in the adage: “Candy’s dandy, but liquor’s quicker.”

  Thanks to the government, though, more serious warnings do keep us charier of unrestricted sexual activity than lessons in morality ever did. We are now aware that the misuse of casual sexual congress can lead to terrible disease and death. Even condom machines in convenience store men’s rooms caution, “Misuse of this product can result in the transmission of infection or pregnancy.” I’m not sure how one misuses a condom. I’m also not sure how one “transmits” pregnancy, but there you have it. The signs say little about what might happen if the product isn’t used at all, but most condom brands promise sterling—even phenomenal results—if one is employed with a willing partner. Presumably, if one uses such a product, one will have an experience worth writing home to Mother about. Lamentably, the condom machine labels offer no advice on how to acquire a willing partner; happily, though, such information is usually scrawled on various walls surrounding the dispenser. No warnings are posted there, though.

  It’s noteworthy that no cautions concerning sex have any admonitions about having intercourse under water. The same cannot be said for any number of electronic or battery-operated accessories marketed to heighten the sexual experience or even to be used when none of the restroom wall advertisements pan out. Such devices are, I’m reliably informed, clearly labeled with warnings regarding submersed use.

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  Another thing that doesn’t carry a warning label and that probably should is money. This, I believe, should merit the federal government’s full and immediate attention, for certainly the “misuse” of this product has frequently resulted in unwanted, even disastrous consequences. Money has led to unnecessary wars, depressions, recessions, and taxes, for example. It also leads to graft, corruption, and scandal. Look what it’s done to major league baseball, for one thing, or popular music, or the oil industry. Principally, it’s the only thing about us that the government is interested in; and if we happen to come into a little bit of it by virtue of labor or luck, the government
is Johnny-on-the-spot to take most of it away. This leads to miserable frustration and an unhealthy attitude.

  On a personal level, the improper use of money routinely causes embarrassment and humiliation; it often motivates dangerous behavior, and if it’s misused frequently, it can result in destitution. It can wreck romance and destroy family harmony; it can also result in ridiculous displays of opulence and outrageous self-indulgence. People sometimes hoard it, making them mean and miserly; other people use it lavishly to gain unwarranted power and influence. Some people abuse it in attempts to buy friends or even lovers, and some misuse it to get rid of friends and lovers or even family members who are no longer wanted. If you stop to think about it, much of the misery in the world is caused by the improper use of money. Either there’s too much of it or not nearly enough. Trying too hard to get more can lead to “serious injury,” or at least a stretch in the calaboose, while failing to have enough can cause someone to sicken and die. But money carries no warning. Instead, it reminds us that we trust in God.

  Religion also carries no warning label, although it’s probably responsible for the rest of the serious problems in human history. Like most other things, if it’s used in a manner other than that for which it’s intended, the results can be devastating. Entire nations have even been destroyed because of it, whole populations wiped out entirely. Perhaps churches, synagogues, and mosques—as well as ashrams and temples, missions, shrines, tabernacles, oracles and altars—should carry warning signs. “Misuse of this faith can result in serious injury or even death.”