Public Service Announcement: Hanger Safety

As a service to the public and to the members of the Blog-O-Sphere, Miracle on 32nd Street will now regularly partake in selected Public Service Announcements.  It is an undertaking I feel will help alert the masses to hidden dangers lurking in unforeseen locations.  I have to believe that all time spent on this endeavor is no time wasted, and it is my fervent wish that you all will support me in this.

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P.S.A. #1:  Hanger Safety

Mankind has long been the manufacturer of many products which have, inadvertently, become serious safety and health hazards.  Cars can swiftly transfer us from one destination to another, but traffic-related injuries are staggering.  Fires can keep us warm and prepare our meals, but our invented heat can scald as fast as it can boil.  Electricity illuminates our lamps, but can deliver a fatal shock in the blink of an eye.  And burritos, while satisfying and delicious, can wreak unfathomable havoc on our digestive systems.

I shouldn't have asked for that extra side of guacamole...

Photo by J-Cliff

Today’s P.S.A. highlights a lurking danger in millions of homes across America.  This danger lures many to employ it on a regular basis.  No…not Peanut M&Ms.  No…not DVDs featuring Pauley Shore.  The danger I speak of…are hangers.

Approach with caution.

Photo by Manne-King

Nay, not airplane hangars…clothing hangers.  These seemingly harmless inventions are responsible for worldwide closet organization, but are also the harbingers of angst, frustration, and severe humiliation.  Don’t believe me?  Watch below and see for yourself:

Hangars: Man-Made Death Traps

Do you notice the fear and self-loathing in her eyes?  Do you see how she can barely look at me when I ask her questions?  And do you see the sheer humiliation in her face when she relegates herself back to her own crate?  This is madness, I say.  Utter madness.

I urge you to take special precautions when dealing with clothing hangers of any variety (yes, even the kinds that look like satin pillows…they are the most deadly):

Don't be fooled by their shimmery glow.

Photo from Only Hangars

Reckless behavior around these objects can result in gouged eyeballs, wrinkled clothes, trapped animals, and stolen vehicles.  Approach all hangers with extreme caution and do not provoke them.  Behavior specialists claim that hangers act favorably towards being hung on a suspended pole in a dark, secure area, and appreciate long, billowy layers of fabric on their beings.  Great attention to these details will ensure a safe household, and a safe America.

This has been a P.S.A., brought to you by Miracle on 32nd Street, in partnership with All Things Fnkybee and The Edmonton Tourist.  Safe living, America!

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All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth and a Kitchen Aid Mixer

I am not an inarticulate person.  I love words.  In fact, most of my close friends would agree that when prompted, I can wax on and on about almost anything, if I’m truly passionate about something.  Sometimes, if I’m really excited about dialoguing with someone, sentences often end with “and…”; I don’t realize I’m spewing until someone points out how an audio book on War and Peace could be performed with more brevity.

However, this morning…I was blind-sided and left speechless by an object of sheer euphoria and endless possibility….

I admit, I was completely thrown off-guard when The Mom dragged out a hulking box from under the tree this morning (and when I say dragged, I mean, dragged..like the Egyptians carrying large, massive blocks along miles and miles of desert to create an awe-inspiring pyramid…those blocks were probably smaller than this package).

The Mom looks better in a loin cloth, too.

It was gigantic, it was enormous, it was…beautiful.  What on earth could it be???  In the grand scheme of things, I had already had an amazing Christmas.  I was already owner of a brand-spanking new camera:  I could have re-wrapped it in its Best Buy packaging and opened it up again and again, in front of a captivated audience consisting of my mom and dad.  I could have even given up the traditional stocking gift of new underwear.