Ken Carpenter
The curse of the propeller beanie
It's funny how an idea can seem so great one day and go down the tubes before the paint on it even dries.
Maybe it is just destiny, or because some of us are just magnets to sour ideas. Or, sadly, maybe some of us are just idiots.
The week started out normal, and in my life that is almost scary. Before too long it dropped back to par, and I decided that there should be a National Idiots Day. I mentioned it to a friend and we decided that two likelier candidates to invent such a day did probably not exist.
It seemed logical that no salute to imbeciles would be complete without propeller beanies to adorn the empty noggins of the two head idiots. In short order a site on the Internet was found that dealt in the Cadillac of propeller beanies, and a few days later the stately headgear arrived.
They were as advertised — a stout, colorful beanie with a propeller that spins crazily if anyone so much as passes gas within three feet of it. Not that anyone did. Really. I mean it.
We tried them on and smirked up a storm as we spun the propellers. No prouder idiots ever existed.
The plot was then hatched to wear them around the workplace on the morning of April something (it doesn't matter now), and declare a National Idiots Day. Yes, there is an April Fools’ Day already, but it seems to be more of a salute to tricksterism than anything. The common, everyday idiot needs a day too.
The general populace being what it is, an Idiots Day would apply to more than a few. It is not that they are all of low intelligence; it is just that sometimes a few foolish acts can label a person for life.
Of course, some are not ashamed of their occasional tendency to act like an ignoramus, which brings us back to the National Idiots Day plan.
The day arrived and we donned our moronic caps with a grin, then roamed from office to office declaring National Idiots Day. Most agreed that we should indeed have our day. We thanked them, I think, and moved on.
After our little parade was over, we dubbed the beanies our thinking caps and stowed them in our respective corners.
The next day I approached my beanie-bearing buddy and brought up Idiots Day again, wondering how we should put it out over the Internet.
"Don't bother," he glumly replied.
When pressed to explain himself, he sheepishly admitted that he wore his beanie to the bar the night before. Most of the other patrons appreciated it, and one of them gleefully told the story of the last time they saw propeller beanies.
It seems that the national news showed 10,000 marchers wearing them in a Gay Pride parade.
So, while we both consider ourselves open minded, we will no longer be declaring a National Idiots Day.
We seem to have one every day anyway.