A Little Dab of Jimegar

It isn’t always easy being a genius, as I have modestly mentioned many times before, but sometimes it comes in handy. This morning I had breakfast in a restaurant and when I was done, my hands were covered in toast bits and jam. I took my paper napkin and scrubbed but they were still sticky. Then I saw a vinegar bottle so I sprinkled my fingers with the contents of that and my digits were cleaner than a brain surgeon’s just before an operation. Forget the alcohol-based hand sanitizers. Little vinegar packets at every table. We could call them jimegar as a tribute to its founder and fabulously wealthy CEO of the Jimegar Corporation. Now I have to go rest my brain for awhile as I feel another wave coming on.

©2014 Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.