Million dollar baby
No matter how stupid or banal the writing contained within it, I just can’t bring myself to throw away one of my notebooks. Scraps of paper, cocktail napkins bearing to-do lists — sure. But there’s something about the bound nature of a notebook that makes tossing it away near impossible.
Some might say this marks me as sentimental; others might say I’m a hoarder. Either way, our apartment is small, we have a new baby and I need to make space. I have a whole stack to go through, but the first one I pick up is a school notebook. On the subject line, where a student might inscribe the word “math” or “French,” I’ve written “ideas.” I’ve used a dollar sign for the “s” to imply that inside these pages are million dollar ideas.
I have curated a list of the best of them — by which I mean the worst — for you to savour and enjoy before they assume their rightful place in the oblivion of my trash can.
“The snow shovel heart monitor.” Since a high percentage of heart attacks occur while shovelling snow, why not sell a shovel that, while you grip the handle, monitors the pulse from your fingertips? It would emit a series of warning beeps if entering into dangerous heartbeat territory and could also be programmed to send for an ambulance if the pulse rate really goes off the charts. It could send for a hearse if all hope was lost.
“The Toilet Yoga Cookbook.” A book espousing a new age meditative approach to plumbing. And cooking. I don’t think I thought it through very well. I just knew I liked the title and that I would start the book with the word “Namaste.”
“Smart diapers.” For the busy parent on the go. No longer would you need to wonder if baby was keeping regular. All you’d have to do was check your baby’s diaper’s Facebook page for a status update.
“Raviolis filled with teeth.” I don’t have an idea what this means.
“Bagels with treats in the middle.” Why have all that dead, empty unsponsored space in the middle when you can have marzipan, melted marshmallow or a tiny circular billboard advertising a brand new meal to be enjoyed by friends you haven’t seen all year?
The only way to make room for new bad ideas is to get rid of the old ones. And so, into the trash the notebook goes. One down and only another three dozen to go.