Suck It Up

Today's lesson deals with industry, marketing, and consumerism. So take a moment to follow Booger's advice and buck up, little campers. Put on your thinking caps, then take 'em off because I'm about to expand your minds until they explode. Could get messy.

Somewhere, it's someone's job to decide how many plies paper towels should have. Should they be single-side-patterned, or is it worthwhile to invest the capital for machinery that can print calico cats, flowers or birds on top and bottom? Does it matter which side of a single-ply towel do we wipe with? Would the quilted side absorb more with it's increased surface area? (Increased surface area is the primary reason Froot Loops get soggy before Trix, but I can't figure out why similarly hooped cereals - Cheerios, for example - don't get mushy so quickly.)

Is there a specific department at Bounty where testers stretch single paper towels while other people drop potatoes on them for fiber/tactile strength? Is there a factory standard on how much water to soak a towel in before it qualifies as distressed? Why hasn't someone invented a paper towel that increases in strength the wetter it gets? Might executives fear a technological accident which bequeaths sentience on the paper towel? What would happen if it lived near an ocean? How many fish would have to die before manufacturers decided it wasn't worth conducting their freakish Frankensteinian experiments?

Conversely, some paper towel makers find it satisfactory to package anything, regardless of how liquid-repellent it may be. We've all experienced spills where we try to sweep up juice, only to push it around the table as if the towel we were using was some kind of squeegee. Is there a minimum requirement for suckuptitude? What about a warning label that strongly recommends users of such lame towels only use them outdoors? Wouldn't that make more sense for the Brawny lumberjack? I don't want that dude walking across my kitchen in those boots. Mercy.

Meanwhile, the potential for soft paper towels hasn't been explored. It's all about clean up. Tissues have the same deal - wimpy varieties can't endure a single sneeze, whereas extra-strength, heavy-duty phlegm rags rival handkerchiefs and could go several rounds before being thrown out. Is it worth paying an extra couple dollars for the ability to deposit more snot?

Quick recap: paper towels need to be absorbent. Tissues and toilet paper need to be soft. But what of napkins? Is it about time we take matters into our own hands, slice shamwows into four-inch squares, and store them everywhere?

No matter what conventional wisdom may be, I still say Porsche as a one-syllable word.