Yes! We Have No (Bruises on Our) Bananas
I know Christmas is very much old news, but as my A-Team lunchbox, Dawson's Creek t-shirt, and Different Strokes underpants (HA!) will attest, I'm not a man who moves on easily. As such, I have recently been inspired (more on that in a minute) to discuss one of the weirdest presents I ever received.
Picture the scene, if you will, of a Collins family (mom’s side) Christmas, circa 2008. My many cousins and I are gathered around the "kids" table (age range: 13-24) for our annual Christmas Eve dinner at my uncle's house in Maine. As per tradition, we are waiting for a bell to ring—the signal to run pell-mell around the living room in search of the first of three hidden presents with our respective names on them.
First bell. Scatter, slide, crash. Couch, piano, carpet. Victory! Rip rip rip. And? Holiday-themed boxers—I get 'em every year, but they're always appreciated.
Second bell. Scramble, bounce, thud. Armchair, bookcase, fireplace. Victory! Rip rip rip. And? The Dark Knight on DVD – totes badass to the extrizzle.
Third and final bell. Scurry, skid, clunk. Vase, coffee table, wet bar. Victory! Rip rip rip. And? And? And…WTF? What is this?
Thoughts immediately turn dirty. Gag gift? Unlikely—probably from grandparents. Show to cousins. Confusion. Laughter. Dated Austin Powers references. Scrunch back and forth like a miniature accordion. Nothing. Twist like a Martini shaker. Nothing. Pull like a mother. Noth— POP! Two pieces; picture becoming clearer. Examine transparent casing like forensic scientist. There, along the ridge, two words:
Oh. OHHHH!!! Totally bizarre. Completely random. Potentially useful. But I have to wonder: What's next?Apple armor?
Pomegranate pup tent?
Probably not. But I bet someone out there would buy 'em: someone like, for example, Stephen Colbert, who, a mere seven-plus years after its invention, finally got around to taking the high-flying Banana Bunker down a peg earlier this week:
Hilarious? Yes. Timely? Not exactly.
Then again, if you plan on turning your bananas into a keyboard…