CABBAGE NIGHT TRICKS -- 24/7 -- I ONCE HACKED A CLOTHESLINE -- HOW 'BOUT YOU?

One of my nephews had this happen to him lately.  After the event he got a lot of sympathy from his friends and neighbors.  Very touching and sympathetic expressions of compassion, they were.
"Hey Dude, I opened it and you should see what I saw!  Who you running with these days, Dude?"
"Hey, C..., wow, good looking lady there, man! Doesn't spend much on clothes, does she?"
"Gee, C..., I didn't know you used that stuff!"

I couldn't help but think, what if the same things would have greeted the old biddy with the hacked-up clothesline about 65 years ago.  We used to do those kinds of things to assert our allegiance to the ghosts, gobblins, leprechauns and spooks who were running rampant on the eve of Hallowe'en.  
Truth to tell, cutting clotheslines was reserved for the people whom you really did not like and whom you deemed "deserved it."
Most of the real damage was usually inflicted upon house and car windows with a bar of Ivory Soap.  You know the stuff, 99.44/100% pure, "It floats!"  The bar had a groove in it to facilitate the cutting of it into two equal parts called "Halves."  So, for a dime, when dimes still existed for a better reason than just making change, you could mark up twice as many windows as the Bozos who only had a bar of Palmolive or some such other thing that DID NOT FLOAT.
What did we write?  Real raunchy stuff it was.
"Ha Ha"  "Kilroy was here"  "Boo"   Most of the time we just scribbled zig-zaggy lines.  Believe me, even the ruffians didn't dare do more than that.  Hey, this was 65 years ago!  In those days, even the ruffians were polite.

So, now hacking means something else.  So, even though I haven't been hacked yet ... now that I've said it, watch what happens over night...  So, now, I say, I am the 21st century ruffian.  I figure out that if you're going to hack me, you're going to have to know the grossest words I know in some foreign language mixed in with BIG letters and real tough numbers like Ih8U@%**& in Sanskrit.  If you hack me it better not be for Viagra, Cialis or anything like that.  What I need is Colchicine that you have stolen from the halls of Congress.  If you're not pushing that, leave me alone.

So, there you have it.  My nephew had a bad day at the keyboard.  First he got hacked electronically and then he had to stand by and get hacked emotionally.  It should never had happened to him.  He never kept any poor child's baseball that had accidentally flown into his back yard.  Besides, you want to hack something real expensive and a real rare treasure? Go find yourself a clothesline and discover the 21st century Nirvana. 

'SNOT FATHER'S DAY WITHOUT THESE > SEE BELOW

You know what?  I gotta tell you that it has been at least 40 years since I have been blessed with white handkerchiefs on Fathers day or on any other day, for that matter.  Let me tell you, not a single day too soon.  I was down to my last three.  I was really worried because I did not even think that it was possible to buy them any more.  That's why I scanned one of the packages so that you can all see that it is indeed possible to buy handkerchiefs.  White handkerchiefs anyway.

Since I was not the one who went out on safari for these things, I still do not know if there are some like used to exist with the light blue trim in the corners and around the edges.  I do know that there was another outlet than the one featured in this photo.  So there are at least two retail outlets who have them.

There is one thing that has struck me in all of this.  My elder son could not stop recounting the bewilderment of his friends when he told them that he was buying me a dozen handerkerchiefs.  His friends did not know why he would do that.  One of them actually asked, "What are they for?"  When he answered the question, the roar that went up was heard in every corner of the planet.  All he said that he was left with was the lame remark, "Yeah, my father is really old school."

Old school is right, but new school too.  after all, handkerchiefs are not just for snots, you know.  They clean eye glasses [see, I didn't say "spectacles!"], they wipe windshields and GPS screens.  Now see, I'm new school too.  I know how to use a GPS, even without the nasty British lady telling me where to go.  

The exclamation point on the experience is this.  The Voice from the Kitchen did not think that #1 Son would think that a dozen handkerchiefs for his old man was a worthy Fathers Day present, so she, while waltzing around JC Penney's inquired about the availability of such an item.  It was almost as bad as a guy asking for ... hummm, never mind.  But anyway, after the person finished choking from hold back laughter, Belle was directed to the location of the handkerchiefs.  The store employee wasn't going to be caught dead near those things.  So, long story short, I went from having three hankies to having two dozen.  I suppose that that is nearly enough to line the pine box that I have waiting for me.

Now, before you get too excited, I have to tell you that these are not linen handerchiefs like used to exist.  They are cotton, plain, thin cotton and they come with specific directions about how to clean them.  No strong soap; no chlorine bleach; gentle dryer heat; low, very low steam iron setting and of course, gentle, very gentle nose blowing, if any.  This activity is to be avoided as much as possible.  I know all this because the direction sheet was signed,