Soaking Up Some Intellect

People who don’t live on boats are pretty curious about what it’s like when you do.  They especially wonder how I might “while away” the hours spent on a 38-foot by 12-foot space that sits in the water, most of the time away from any handy access to land.  My answer is pretty simple.  I have PLENTY to do.  There’s so much that I usually have to rotate my time making sure that I get it all in. I go from knitting to playing solitaire to doing crossword puzzles to reading to writing.  Sometimes, I do all five activities in the span of one hour depending upon my state of fidget. This, of course, is on top of all my first-mate duties which range from winching the mainsail to cleaning the head to cooking meals three times a day. 

But, don’t let this lead you believe that there is no intellectual stimulation aboard “Up Jinks.”  There is ample time for deep, philosophical reflection.  Why, just the other day, I spent a couple of hours contemplating what type of individual it is who actually strives to be a paper towel artist.  This burning question has come to mind with quite a bit of regularity for me because I go through paper towels like babies do diapers.  Every time I open a new roll, I am not only struck by how creative the paper towel artists are, but also how prolific.  No two rolls are ever the same.

It’s hard to figure out the exact demographics for the group.  Sometimes I’m convinced that it’s a bunch of children. This belief results from patterns where there are little finger-painted hands around the edges with “I love Mommy” and “I love Daddy” printed not so neatly in the corner of each sheet.  Or perhaps the one where the pink and blue teddy bears march proudly down the roll.  But, then I am dissuaded of that conclusion by a somewhat more sophisticated design such as the one on the roll I’m currently using – a delightful display of all types of pastel-colored watering cans.  Some are tall with long spouts.  There is a medium-sized one with a handle that looks like it might be better suited for an Easter basket. One actually looks more like a tea kettle.  All have some pattern on them – flowers, stars and moon, bunny rabbits, puppy dogs.  This design took quite a bit of thought and execution.  Couldn’t have been a child, maybe somebody in a jail somewhere. 

For all I know, there might even be contests to decide whose artwork actually gets onto the rolls.  If so, I imagine there have to be categories such as “Holidays” with Christmas being Number One.  It always produces Santa Clauses, hollies, Christmas trees, angels and my personal favorite, the five verses of a Christmas Carol with bass and treble clefs, sharps, flats and time as if you were going to sing the entire song while wiping up the kitchen counter.     

To my knowledge I have never actually talked to a paper towel artist.  No one has ever confessed to the merits of his work by saying something like “Oh, yes.  My most famous work came out in 1992 when my ‘Creeping Ivy’ design appeared on the Brawny Select-a-Size rolls.”  So, it’s hard to fully imagine what one might look like or what sort of personality they might have.  I do know this for a fact – their artwork adds to the cost of the paper towel.  We bought the So-Dri brand the other day at a store in Marsh Harbour.  The rolls were less than a $1.00 each.  Plain white, no design.  Right next to them were the Scott towels with a whimsical, colorful design of curlicues.  They were $2.50 per roll.   

All of this cogitation is but one example of what can trigger thoughts on the boat. My goodness, maybe it’s time to go back to knitting!!

Copyright, 2005

Beth Tally