Tuesday, August 30, 2005

But I don't want to break both my legs be taller

I'm obsessed with canned air. I've emptied an entire bottle in one extended spree of dusting ecstasy. Watching the gungy bits fly out from under my keyboard and the difficult-to-reach corners of my phone gives me a kind of pleasure usually felt only while vacuuming the cracks of the couch, sucking up large pockets of things better left undefined that rattle in the vacuum hose.

The popularity of canned air makes me wonder what else I could market simply by packing it into a can with a propellant. What about canned biscuits? I love biscuits, and oh the convenience! No refrigeration, and just squeeze a dollop onto a sheet and bake for five minutes. I suppose the paper cartons "from my grocer's case" are probably cornering the market, but I hate using those as the exploding can is dangerous and scary. What if a biscuit piece flew into my eye?

I borrowed an can of air from a co-worker today. I tipped my keyboard upside down and used the lent air in exactly the way you're not supposed to as warned by the instructions on the back because tilting it makes your fingers freeze and stick to the metal, but I can't get the good, really gross bits out if I keep the can upright. I have to tilt the can and squeeze the little red tube underneath the keys to get enough thrust. It's a primordial microcosm of scone crumbs, Sugar in the Raw crystals, spilled tea and dead skin in there. I think the can is a bit old, though, as the blast seemed a bit ineffectual and only the loosest, freshest stuff was blown out. The fine coating of lunches and snacks still lining the bottom of the tray is bonded to the plastic. However, as the filmy layer can only be seen when you look at the keyboard from the top, I can deceive myself into thinking that it only needs a light dusting to avoid contracting a prolonged skin infection.

There was a particularly disturbing article about the number and variety of hardy organisms, particularly staph, living in the average person's keyboard. I long to dip my keyboard in boiling water from the Insta-Hot tap in the lunchroom, soak it in bleach and hang it out to dry by the cord. What I really want is one of the little keyboard vacuums Ethan Hawke used in Gattaca to make sure that no one could find traces of his DNA. Maybe Sharper Image sells one.

1 comment:

Das Klaun said...

That was the only decent thing about working at Larson-Juhl; we had a huge air compressor, with airhoses at each of our workstations to blast away all the sawdust. Made cleaning a breeze--all I had to do was shoot it all to the next guy's station while he wasn't looking, and he would still be using a broom like a sucker.

Man, I'm getting misty about that place. I need help.