I’m no whys guy but . . .

Just what is a thermic effect and is it safe to drive after having one?

This week, I’m busy wondering why. Let me start with the two things which set me on this train of thought.

The first was that Mrs D came home with a new nailbrush for the bathroom because the old one had suffered from bristle deterioration and, probably, scaly fungus, psoriasis, scabies and diabetes.

Why, oh why, she asked as she withdrew it from her non-plastic, recyclable, washable fabric, ecofriendly, hessian-handled, mung bean-inspired shopping bag, does a nailbrush have to be set on a cardboard plinth then covered with a moulded clear plastic showcase?

Surely a nailbrush could be sold — if I may be so bold as to use the expression — loose?

When she had prised it from its packaging, repaired her nails and put the elements out in the recycling, she set the spanking new bristled brush down beside the soap which raised another why, oh why. Why, oh why do toiletries have to star ingredients which make them sound like recipes?

The soap, I kid you not, was “Tahitian lime and sandalwood”! I’ll wager the range also includes one called “Vanilla bean, apricot and salted caramel”. And “foie gras, thyme and sherry”.

Then in a health-themed magazine, I read, “Black pepper contains an ingredient called piperine which creates a thermic effect and promotes the breakdown of some fat cells. It helps your body burn more calories as well as absorb selenium, cobalamin, beta-carotene and curcumin.”

This raised a number of questions: Just what is a thermic effect and is it safe to drive after having one?

What are selenium, cobalamin, beta-carotene and curcumin and are they safe around animals?

But these weren’t the real why, oh whys. The real doozie came a sentence or two later with the claim that black pepper “is perfect in a turmeric latte, too”. Why, oh why would you want to flavour coffee with turmeric and further adulterate it by adding black pepper?

I might be missing something but I thought coffee came with its own built-in flavour and the main reason we drink it is because we like its . . . coffee flavour.

A couple of years ago in the heart of the US of A we stopped at a roadside cafe/service centre because I felt like a coffee. All the coffees were properly made (by which I mean they made whirring/grinding noises) but came via machines into which you put your money.

There was a veritable wall of options — caramel coffee, hazelnut coffee, curcumin coffee, Tahitian lime and sandalwood coffee — but coffeeflavoured coffee was not one of them. I left bewildered and coffee-less.

And why, oh why, would you festoon your products with words like “natural”, “eco-”, “planet-friendly”, “organic”, “non-toxic” and “environmentally safe” and pack them in plastic containers?

And why, oh why do supermarket fresh produce departments add packaging to things that already come in their own protective layer?

It’s hard to imagine the thinking that goes into taking a small bunch of bananas, resting it on a tray made from unspeakable pollutants, wrapping the whole thing in clingfilm and slapping a price ticket on it.

Then there are our staples, milk and bread. Why, oh why do both come in plastic? My congratulations go to those small operators who are bucking the trend and selling their milk in . . . wait for it . . . glass bottles. Whatever next!

Well, I’ve managed to get a lot off my chest. The experience has been quite cathartic. If I could wrap the experience in pollutants and market it, I could be a wealthy man!