Thursday, June 22, 2006

Riddle me this: is there anybody on earth’s sundry greens who has the power–the gumption, my good listener–to manufacture an extension cord that refrains from killing customers? My new digs, comfortably situated in plush Wilmette, hearken back to an earlier time, an era when Ben Franklin had yet to do his thing. None of the outlets can accommodate three-pronged plugs, an alien technology that I will have to reproduce.

Apparently I’m not meant to accomplish this feat, however, given the dire warnings splayed on every package at Target and Walmart. Here it is, word for word.

WARNING: This product contains chemicals, including lead, known to the State of California to cause [cancer, and] birth defects or other reproductive harm. Wash hands after handling.

Every goddamn cord, 3-ft. to 100-ft., crafted to blight our land with sickness and death. Why cancer only warrants a parenthetical, I can’t precisely say, although it’s a relief this warning only applies to the State of California. The two-hour time difference makes everything better, I guess.