The Junk Drawer

UPDATE: See additional photo below!

Like always, I hope that today’s What’s That item is hard enough to make your head hurt, but not so hard that no one gets it.

How to play:

1. The photo shows a small portion of a larger object.

2. First person to guess the object wins a Junk Drawer magnet and your choice of bacon bandaids, chocolate chip cookie soap or toasted Post-it notes.

Item Info:

1. This item is rather old.

2. It is not mine.

3. It’s very cool.

What’s that?

Since no one got it yet, here’s another picture. Same part of the object, different angle, more revealed.

Does this help?

In other Junk Drawer news:

In June I gave an interview to the Wall Street Journal about the loud Sun Chips bag. A marketing reporter found my blog post and video about the ear-splitting noise the 100% compostable bags make.

The article finally appeared yesterday. I’m quoted in the third to last paragraph. They also used a snippet of my bag demonstration 25 seconds into their video (click the Video tab at the top of the article).

Now go stare at the picture above for an hour and drop your guess in the drawer.

Go on! Get going!

This morning at work I took an elevator to a lab I’m responsible for maintaining. Two service workers from a copier rental place got on-board with me.

They asked if I worked in the building.

“Yep. What’cha need?”

“We’re here to pick up a copier in Room 61.”

“Oh, that’s great. I’m headed down to Room 51 myself. I’ll take you to the room.”

We arrived at the pickup location and I unlocked the door for them. Inside was a giant copier on wheels, the kind that can do every task imaginable in addition to copying.

The guys checked the serial number to make sure it was the right copier and it was.

They thanked me for letting them in the room and asked if I wouldn’t mind signing the pickup form.

“Sure. No problem.”

I signed and dated the form and then because the guy wanted to send one to the department who requested the pickup and keep one for himself, he asked me this:

“Do you have a copier I can use?”

Hand to God.

I have lost my writing mojo. I checked the couch cushions, the garage, under my car seats and in that desk drawer that always sticks. It mustn’t be here.

If anyone finds it, please send me an email and I’ll come pick it up. Or, if you live too far, I’ll pay for postage. It does not have to go in a bubble wrap lined envelope, but it does have to be a large envelope. Say, 12″ by 15.5″.

Oh, and if you see it, be nice to it on approach. Use a calm voice so it doesn’t escape. Maybe offer it some bacon. It responds to “Mojo,” “Chops,” or when it’s feeling down, “Serviceable Writing Ability.”

This is the kind of post you’ll get until it’s found. So please search everywhere. Start with your junk drawers. It’s possible my mojo went in search of others because nothing is happening in mine.

Thank you.

1.  Knuckle-dragging cavewoman.

2.  Thrown from horse.

3.  Baby with a too-full diaper.

4.  Drunken Quasimodo.

5.  In high heels with one heel missing.

6.  Defective weeble.

7.  Angry Frankenstein.

8.  Eighty-year-old man with two hip replacements.

9.  Newborn elephant’s first steps.

10. Woodstock Joe Cocker.

If you see Valerie, the woman who suggested we do this fun activity during our first-ever blogger meet-up, throw a brick at her head for me, will ya?

Our other blogger guest, Meleah Rebeccah, fared way better than me. She golfed the next day. Golfed.

I hate everybody who can move right now.

So remember when I was interviewed about Windy on NPR’s All Things Considered program? Yeah, good times baby!

Well, what you don’t know is the day the Windy interview aired, I was interviewed by the Wall Street Journal for an entirely different story. I was pinching myself all over because I couldn’t believe my good fortune.

That morning I received an email from a marketing reporter, asking if she could interview me about the YouTube video I made about the very loud Sun Chips bag, a bag that’s so loud husbands can’t eat out of it near a sleeping baby or their wives will kill them dead.

The reporter found my video online and was putting together a story about the bags and all the people who can’t stand them.

She took some vitals from me, my name, town and blog information and then asked me some questions.

When did you realize the bag was so loud?

As soon as I got it home and opened it. My husband and I irritated each other for a week. You can hear it on different floors of the house.

How do you feel about Frito-Lay’s efforts to improve the environment by making 100% compostable bags?

Great, except I’ll never buy them again. I thought of writing the Frito-Lay people and telling them that they’re losing sales because the bag’s so loud.

[This turned out to be untrue, because I recently purchased a bag, but only to give to a colleague so he could hear for himself how loud they were. When I drove to work with it and went over some bumps, the bag made a noise. Just sitting there, it made a noise. God.]

Do you write companies about products you dislike?

Oh, yes. In fact, I just wrote the Glad Wrap people to tell them they need to help consumers find the end of a new roll. The thin plastic is clear and sometimes you can’t see or feel where the end of it is. They can fix the problem by tinting the end of the roll in some color or attaching a little pull tab.

I went on to say that companies should hire me as a product tester to let them know what will work and what won’t. I would make an excellent focus group participant and they should want me full-time because I would never shut up.

Do you hate a lot of things?

Oh, no! I’m in love with my Dyson vacuum cleaner. In a really unhealthy way. I told her that vacuuming was a joy now, and despite the high cost, it’s worth every penny and she should go buy one. Like right now.

We touched on a couple other things and then the interview was over. She thanked me for my time and said the article would appear soon, but it’s been six weeks and still no story. I think I scared her.

What a loss. Just think of all the people who won’t get the chance to leave comments on the WSJ site, saying how certifiably mental I am.

So that leaves just you guys to tell me so on the blog. But I’m a lovable certifiable, right?