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This is gonna be about Band-Aids. It's pretty great.

Archive for the ‘Week 2: Nostalgia’ Category

#9 When you have a ribeye steak- You must blog it. Oh that meatloaf tasted great- You must blog it.

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Blog it. Blog it good.

Who wants some nostalgia? YOU want some nostalgia.

Yeah, that’s a decent enough way to start this post. Let’s continue, shall we?

So as a preface to this particular set of inane ramblings, you should know that I felt absolutely, skull-crushingly awful last night. That tends to happen when I get ninety minutes of sleep because I was up all night doing a POL/SCI paper, and then had a full day of class and a basketball game (for those not in the know, I play in the pep band. It’s as fun/goofy/stupid/hilariously cruel as it sounds). So, by the end of said basketball game,  I was so exhausted I could barely move my arms/legs, but still had to carry a shit-ton of equipment back to my car, then to my apartment, then up three flights of stairs. At that point I legitimately thought I was going to pass out and die. Oh and I should mention that I found myself steadily gaining more and more cold symptoms as the basketball game went on. Not sneezing, or coughing, mind you, but more like the chills, headache, backache, nausea, disorientation- that kind ‘o’ stuff. So there’s that.

Now, as the basketball game went on, a little voice started going off in the back of my head saying ‘soup soup soup soup,’ so I figured the best way to shut it up was, well… soup. But not just any soup. And here’s where the nostalgia comes pouring in.

My favoritest favoritest restaurant, is without a doubt, this Chinese place I would always go to as a kid. The Peking Gourmet Inn. You should go there. It’s great. It’s one of those places that’s so good and such a fond memory from my sweet, innocent youth that every time I eat Chinese food I get a little bit of that comforting Peking Gourmet feeling. Just a smidge, anyway.

Now it might have just been my disease-addled brain, but as I spent a large part of the game trying to brainstorm Band-Aid ideas, and the other part thinking about soup (specifically, wonton soup from the Peking Gourmet- tying those last few paragraphs together in the nick of time), the two became interchangeable in my head.

 

People eat soup when they feel sick.

People use Band-Aids when they’re hurt.

Soup makes people feel better.

Band-Aids make people feel better.

Soup and Band-Aids are basically the same thing!

 

Now, this logic is reallllllly stretching it, but you have to remember that, at the time, I was a hair’s breadth away from puking myself into a coma. Just keep that in mind. But then an idea popped into my head. An idea that would forever intermingle wonton soup and Band-Aids into one all-knowing, all-healing god of sick-make-better. I saw all the pieces fitting together in my head. I ran (drove) to the Kroger. Grabbed like three boxes of Band-Aids in different shapes. Called up the only Chinese place I know that will deliver food at 10:30 at night. And then it happened.

Granted, my wonton-folding skills are shoddy at best, but you get the idea.

Band-Aid wontons.

And do you know what the best part of the story is? After I took that picture I inhaled that entire thing of soup and passed out for 11 hours.

Feels good. Feels really good.

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Written by mandudeman

February 16, 2011 at 3:00 pm

Posted in Week 2: Nostalgia

Post #8. I’m about to take a nap. I apologize that this title is in no way clever or interesting.

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I’m gonna start this entry with my first official attempt to do my work on time. Surprising, I know. But I figure doing these blog posts in the last three days before class is, technically, more punctual than doing them all the night before. Just got to take baby steps. Baaaaaaaaby steps.

So this particular post is an idea I had right at the start of this blog. It may even have been the first idea that popped into my brain when this blog idea first came into play. And in all honesty, it’s the first thing I think of when I try to link Band-Aids to anything remotely personal.

Now, you’re probably asking yourself- “well, if it’s so great, why didn’t you write about it already?” And there’s a two-pronged answer to that question. Answer #1- if you’re actually asking that, chances are you’re kind of a smarmy asshole, because it’s a totally useless hypothetical question I’m just adding in to pad out the introduction to this blog post. And Answer #2- I was waiting for just the right moment, when I had run out of every other idea, to use this oldie but goodie. So here we go.

Now, I don’t know about you, anonymous blog reader, but I tend to get a little homesick sometimes. And one of the all-time, #1 hits at the top of the homesickness charts would be those first few weeks of college. Hoo boy. Especially considering that my original ‘being dropped off at college by my parents’ moment was kind of awkward- we went to a Chipotle, but just got soda, and I didn’t really know what to say and wanted to go off with my friends but didn’t want to leave my parents abruptly but kinda did and in hindsight was kiiiiind of a dick. I’ve actually written an entire Focused Inquiry paper based on the content of that run-on sentence. It was pretty great.

But there’s always that one little insignificant thing that ends up being faaaar more important than you’d think. And in this case, that particular insignificant thing was a care package my dad had made me and put in my suitcase the night before we left. I still remember him telling me everything he had put into a little tupperware tub. Advil. Allergy pills. Some gauze, maybe (the details are a little fuzzier in my head than I’d led you to believe). And a half-empty box of Band-Aids.

Now, at the time, I had a billion things on my mind, and honestly, I didn’t really care too much about the exact details of what was in that tupperware googaw. But take that jerk-faced about-to-leave-for-college apathy and fast-forward it a few weeks when I’m still not really adjusted to college life and I have a pretty bad headache. So I reach for said care package. I’m halfway through grabbing the Advil bottle when the Band-Aid box catches my eye. In an instant, all the little details unfold in my mind. I can see my dad rummaging through the house, looking for anything I might need in my dorm room. I can see him eyeing the Band-Aids. I can see him thinking “Adam might cut his finger on something- better give him a couple. You never know.” And those Band-Aids are still in the medicine cabinet in my new place, long after I moved out of Johnson Hall. I still think about that every time I see them. And in all honesty, Johnson Hall had this horrible putrid chemical smell that still haunts me to this day and I’m really glad I never have to go back there.

EDIT #1: Ok so apparently I used all the Band-Aids from that old care package and threw out the box in a fit of carelessness. The overall idea still stands, though.

 

Just imagine I never threw them out and that whole point of this entry is still intact.

EDIT #2: Ok so apparently I forgot to upload this and left it on my computer for a day or two. So when you see ‘the last three days before class…’ just imagine me writing it a few days before I actually posted the damn thing.

 

Written by mandudeman

February 15, 2011 at 6:58 pm

Posted in Week 2: Nostalgia

Post #7. I can’t think of a pithy quote involving go time. You’ll have to make do.

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I’m kinda flying off the cuff here, but how ’bout some more nostalgia?

Yeah. More nostalgia is just what I need right now.

And what’s more nostalgic than a childhood pet? Well, lots of things, but I’m going to ignore all of them in favor of letting Band-Aids and something mildly nostalgic dictate what gets spewed into this blog. Yippee.

Our story begins with me getting a hamster as a gift for some long-forgotten birthday. Maybe eight. Maybe nine. I honestly can’t remember, and the specifics aren’t important here so I’m making no attempt to clarify exactly which birthday this actually occurred on. But yeah, every year I got some really awesome super-fun-time large gift for my birthday. This particular year was a hamster. And an erector set. That was pretty cool. But the hamster was the main event. Now honestly, this first part has NOTHING to do with Band-Aids, so I’ma just skip to where they become involved.

The hamster bit my finger. I put a Band-Aid on it.

Now, normally, that’s nowhere near enough of a story to constitute a blog post, but I’m going to do my damnedest to stretch this as far as I possibly can.

Honestly, I really don’t use Band-Aids that often, but I’m not really sure if a lot of people do. I’m a pretty flinchy guy in general, and the upside to that is I tend to flinch away from a lot of potentially Band-Aid-ening sources of pain. The obvious downsides, I’ll ignore for the sake of my fragile self-esteem. But I remember being super-afraid of any kind of animal bites long before my finger was forever scarred with the tooth-marks of a hamster. And afterwards, my flinchy-ness increased tenfold. Granted, hamsters aren’t exactly the most hands-on of pets, but my pure, abject childhood terror, combined with the image of a hamster yawning and exposing those two giant front teeth that rodents have (there’s a name for that, I’m sure. I’ll look it up later or something) made me just a bit nervous to pet Muffler the hamster (I wasn’t into cars as a kid. I was just weird, really).

Now, looking back on all of this as someone who’s more or less an adult, almost all of my hamster memories are fond ones. And that’s because eventually, and with some time and effort, I was able to overcome my hamster terrors. It wasn’t like there was some magic quick-fix-it that made me less flinchy. There wasn’t even a montage of me petting increasingly realistic stuffed hamsters before moving on to the real thing, all set to “Working For the Weekend” by Loverboy.

And honestly, this wasn’t some huge, all-encompassing, life-changing phobia. I was just kinda afraid of petting the hamster because I got bit once. It wasn’t even that difficult to overcome. I just approached it little by little, and before you know it I was petting hamsters like nobody’s business.

It’s not even that I was super afraid of the bite (and the Band-Aid that followed. BOOM. Band-Aids). It’s the suddenness and the shock of something happening so fast. It’s why I’m still flinchy today. But when I thought of Band-Aids, I thought of my childhood hamster bite, and that led to a whole bunch of snuggly hamster memories. So that’s my nostalgic Band-Aid moment.

“Aradicular Hypsodonts.” That’s a scientific term for rodent front teeth. Looked it up and everything.

Written by mandudeman

February 9, 2011 at 8:41 pm

Posted in Week 2: Nostalgia

Post #6. Go time’s been gone for some time now.

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Aaaaand here we go.

Well, I need nostalgia. And I need Band-Aids. And as far as I can tell, the simplest way to combine these two ingredients would be those really awesome Band-Aids from my childhood that had dinosaurs on them. They made getting injured fun!

No seriously, they did. Well… sort of. I was always a super-sensitive kid, but there was definitely some kind of coolness factor in having dinosaurs anywhere on my person. Plus the Band-Aid was like a badge of honor, if you over-think things waaaaay too much. And since I’ve run that idea into the ground after like seven sentences, let’s move on, shall we?

So I assumed that they still make Band-Aids especially for kids, and after a little on-line research, it turns out they do. This isn’t exactly a topic that’s being disputed… like at all, but I figured I should check just in case some freak industrial accident destroyed the world’s supply of cartoon character Band-Aids and then I spend this whole blog post talking out of my ass. Not that I wouldn’t end up doing that anyway. But back to the topic at hand- This whole ‘nostalgic Band-Aid’ thing got me a-thinkin’ and a-thunkin’ about how long ago people started using Band-Aids that were fun for kids (mostly because the Band-Aids on the market now are all Peanuts and Barbie and Spiderman- apart from Spongebob and Dora the Explorer we’re talking about some fairly old properties).

So onward to the Wikipedia page for Band-Aids! From there we’ve got 1951 as the first ever date of decorative Band-Aids, but that source isn’t cited, so to hell with that.

So onward to BandAid.com! And yeah, 1951 was apparently the year multi-colored Band-Aids were introduced to the world.

But that’s not really enough for me to be satisfied with this blog entry, so let’s get one more pony in this pony show. Specifically the pony of my dad (ok let’s drop the pony metaphor here- I called my dad. On the phone. There weren’t actually any ponies). Considering he was born in 1951 (would he take offense to me putting his age up here? Ahhhhh screw it too late), he’s the perfect age to field all my Band-Aid related questions.

Well, one phone call later I’ve been enlightened. Not only did my dad remember using the multi-colored ones first introduced in 1951 (thank you BandAid.com), but he and a friend of his from work both remember using Flintstones Band-Aids too. So there you have it. Not only am I fondly remembering the dinosaur bandages that defined my childhood (my dad remembered those too, by the way) but I’m also sending at least two other people into the open-armed warmth and fuzziness of Band-Aid related nostalgia. And that’s pretty great.

 

Written by mandudeman

February 9, 2011 at 5:45 pm

Posted in Week 2: Nostalgia