When I saw Old Faith­ful

Cecil Whig - - & & -

The year was 1998. I was in San Fran­cisco to ap­pear on a lo­cal tele­vi­sion show. The pro­ducer had asked me to bring props for vis­ual in­ter­est, as I would be demon­strat­ing some of the great tips that were pub - lished in my news­let­ter.

I ar­rived the evening be­fore and checked into one of San Fran­cisco’s finest his­toric down­town ho­tels. I then took a cab to a gro­cery store to pick up props for the show. I wanted to find the big­gest pos­si­ble sizes of in­gre­di­ents like bak­ing soda, white vine­gar, salt and am­mo­nia.

Know­ing I only needed the con­tain­ers and not the con­tents, I de­cided to empty the con­tents out of all of the con­tain­ers to lighten my load and make my trip to the stu­dio a bit more man­age­able. Plus, I fig­ured that dump­ing the in­gre­di­ents would be eas­ier than try­ing to check all of those con­tain­ers on the plane.

De­spite the fact that I would be wast­ing a lot of per­fectly good in­gre­di­ents, I flushed all of the bak­ing soda and a gal­lon of vine­gar down the toi­let. I emp­tied the salt into a plas­tic bag, tied it up and placed it in the waste­bas­ket. Lastly, I poured the quart of rub­bing al­co­hol down the sink. Done. Sim­ple, easy and quite smart, I told my­self. I packed the empty props for the next day and left the room to get some din­ner.

Sev­eral hours later I was watch­ing TV when the most un­usual thing hap­pened. I thought that Yel­low­stone Na­tional Park’s Old Faith­ful vis­ited my room!

MARY HUNT

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