Paper Towels

Various lengths. Letter to the editor.

Version 1. 598 words.

I read recently that not only are paper towel rolls shrinking, there is also a move afoot to perforate them in new and devious ways, allegedly to help save the environment by forcing consumers to use an ever-smaller square of paper. I believe that by giving in to the pressure to pervert the perforations, the makers of paper towels are not saving the environment but they are accelerating the emasculation of America.

I am a thrifty man, and so a paper towel is not my tool of choice for sopping up most messes. When cleaning up after a meal, I reach for the dish rag and a cloth towel, both of which are reusable any number of times. I do that for thrift, but I hope reading about it warms the cockles of the hearts of those tireless scolds, the environmentalists. Paper towels come into play for unexpected messes, or for substances that might ruin the cloth towels (e.g. grease, oil, blood, polonium). On the rare occasions when I resort to paper, therefore, I want to obtain it quickly and I want a good-sized square. A square, by the way, is defined as “a geometric shape that is the same length on all four sides; you know—it is square.”

The current division into half-sized strips makes both speed and proper portioning impossible. If you attempt to rip it from the roll quickly, you wind up with a ragged shred in your hand while the other 43% of that piece laughs at you from its secure place on the roll. If you give in to the emasculation and resort to daintily tearing it off with only thumb and forefinger, you end up with the approved portion, which is an impractical little strip of paper. While this was going on, the spill has spread beyond paper towel dimensions and now you need at least a towel and possibly a mop. The unused shred of paper goes into the trash. Environmentalists, please think of the elaborate, resource-hungry supply chain that delivered that piece of paper into my hand, only for me to be forced to waste it. Mother Earth is weeping, and so am I because that thing cost money and I got no use out of it.

If, as rumor has it, they go to quarter-sized sheets, I might as well just throw the whole roll into the trash for all the good it is going to do me. I am not going to fall into the trap of standing there using tweezers to separate a pointless little fun-sized square from the roll.

Remember the days of Rosie, the diner waitress portrayed by Nancy Walker in commercials for Bounty? Someone would dump a cup of coffee on the counter and all would look on aghast as the stain spread—disaster! But wait! Along would come Rosie with a big, pillowy square of Bounty. As she calmly soaked up the spill with the capacious multi-ply wonder that was 1970’s paper towels, she would chirp, “Bounty! It’s the quicker picker-upper!”

It sure was, Rosie.

Now imagine the Brawny Man prancing in waving his ineffectual postage-stamp size squares at that same spill, declaring that he was saving the planet. Meanwhile, coffee would drip onto the laps of disgusted customers. I like to think that Rosie would elbow him aside and do what we all—men and women—used to do in this country: Deal With It.

It is a sad state of affairs when our late fictional diner waitresses are more manly than our current fictional lumberjacks, but here we are.

Version 2. 298 words.

Manufacturers are starting to section paper towels into ever-smaller pieces. I believe this perversion of the perforations is doing nothing for the environment but it is accelerating the emasculation of America.

I prefer reusable dish rags and kitchen towels. I do so for thrift, but my habit should also please environmentalists. I use paper towels only for sudden messes that demand a good-sized square, immediately. For those who have never seen one, a square is “a plane figure with four equal straight sides and four right angles.”

Ripping narrow strips off quickly leaves you with a ragged shred in your hand. If you tear it off slowly with only thumb and forefinger, you end up with the approved stingy portion; meanwhile, the spill spreads beyond paper towel dimensions. The unused paper goes into the trash. Imagine the resource-hungry supply chain that delivered that piece of paper into my hand, only for me to waste it. Mother Earth weeps, as do I because that thing cost money and I got no use out of it.

Remember Rosie the diner waitress in 1970s commercials for Bounty? Someone would dump a cup of coffee on the counter and then look on aghast as the liquid spread. Along would come Rosie with a big pillowy square of Bounty. She would soak up the spill while chirping, “Bounty! It’s the quicker picker-upper!” Boy was it.

Today we get Brawny Man skipping in waving symbolic little squares and declaring that we are saving the planet. Meanwhile, coffee drips onto the laps of customers.

A so-called superpower that is willing to go about with coffee-stained frontages to signal environmental virtue is also signalling that interested parties may feel free to invade Ukraine and Taiwan, to name two timely examples.

I only wish I were exaggerating.

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