As I crawl under the electric blanket on my bed every night, I am grateful that such a thing exists. I am a cold-blooded animal, constantly at risk of freezing stiff as a two-by-four, so a warm blanket doesn’t seem to be a frivolous possession.
Still, the word “decadence” runs through my warm mind now and then and while I have not consulted the University of Google to find out the exact meaning of the term, my own definition would probably lay out that a decadent thing is a thing a person doesn’t need.
For many thousands of years, people have been covering themselves up at night when they sleep to stay warm. Cavemen and women probably used some form of wildebeest hide to keep the frost away. But it took some genius in the last century to think, “If I ran electric wires inside a blanket and plugged it into the wall, I bet I could sell millions” and here we are.
In effect, I go to sleep every night inside a low-grade toaster oven.
I would have to do an exhaustive survey of all my possessions to decide which of them I don’t need, but right off the bat, the plastic ice cubes I got for Christmas spring to mind. I know why the family member gave them to me. She has suffered through many years of the tantrums I have thrown as I have tried to get frozen water cubes out of their trays.
I could list may other devices like the plastic ice cubes to convict myself of the charge of decadence, but something I bought last fall I think would have any impartial jury yelling, “Guilty!”
I am referring to the butt warmer I bought for our car. I think of the many generations of my family which got from one place to another without even a car, let alone a butt warmer to put on the seat. Did they think, as they were sailing across the Atlantic after leaving Ireland in the 1840s, “I wish I had something warm to sit on”? I am going to go ahead and guess they didn’t say that.
In fact, I myself managed to live 70 years without a butt warmer and hardly ever mentioned to anyone, “Gosh my butt is freezing” but when you run out of things to buy, I guess you buy a butt warmer.
And, of course, as is the case with every decadent thing, once you have experienced the value of the new device, you can never go back.
If I ever emigrate back to Ireland, and it isn’t impossible that I won’t, I am taking my butt warmer with me.
And my plastic ice cubes.
©2021 Jim Hagarty
