I don’t know about you, but I thought flying was pretty unpleasant before Sept. 11. Sure there was the ever- present fear of crashing, but I also wasn’t too enthusiastic about the revolting food that always managed to spill in my lap, being trapped next to a passenger who needed a seat built for two, and just the general misery of being crammed into an airless, hot, uncomfortable seat with negligible leg room for hours upon hours. But the thing that really freaked me out was something stuck in the seat pocket in front of you. No, not the helpful directions for using your seat cushion as a “flotation device” (has that ever been done, ever?), nor the nondescript air-sick bag. No, I’m talking about the SkyMall catalog. Have you ever looked at these things?
They’re, in part, hilarious. But for last-minute shoppers, the fact that you can order from them for free using the phone in front of you makes them seductively convenient. You can check out ridiculous gadgetry (like an appliance that steams hot dogs and toasts the buns all in one white dome), office decorations for middle managers (framed landscape posters with inspirational sayings), and a stunning variety of hair-removal options, but you’re missing the fear factor if you skip the “improvements” category. There, for just $9.99, you can order a smoke escape hood. This fun little item is a plastic bag for your head fitted with a smoke filter, giving you 15 minutes of escape time during a fire.
I’ve always thought that the trouble with these “safety” products is that it would take me so long to figure out where it was and how to use it, I’d probably be dead long before I got my $59.99 second-story fire escape ladder out the window and free of tangles. And I’d like to know if anyone in the world has successfully used the car escape hammer. It’s designed to be mounted on your floorboard just in case you drive into a lake and need to break a window to swim to safety. (A safety blade lets you snip off your seat belt.)
These products make me hyperconscious of all the potential hazards in my own living space that I’m not even aware of. Should I get a $14.99 water leak alarm? The $26.99 dual security bar? Test my air for radon? My paint for lead? My water for god knows what?
But despite a little lingering anxiety, I used to just look through the catalog and chuckle. What kind of an idiot buys an emergency potty kit complete with 12 toilet liners and chemicals (for a not-very-long disaster)? But now I know. It’s a parent. Having a small child running around makes these concerns that much more pressing. I know enough to not leave knives lying around (though it’s stunning that the few times I do have matches out, he’s drawn to them like a nail to a magnet).
Somehow having a baby gets you on a weird “make you feel like a bad parent” catalog list. My mailbox gets stuffed with advertisements for products such as the padded toddler shield ($29.95-$59.95), to protect young heads from the sharp edges of coffee tables. The One Step Ahead catalog also features an adjustable stove guard ($22.95), which puts a transparent polycarbonate shield between hot pans and little hands. Wouldn’t that be a treat to open Christmas morning? My personal favorite is the $89.95(!) cozy crib tent that keeps climbing kids in bed. Naturally it’s made of fire-retardant material.
Good parents buy (or are given by fellow good parent friends) driveway safety signs, a safety cover for the dishwasher, stove knob locks, bookcase stabilizers, and window guards (removable, of course, to make room for the escape ladder).
The trouble with all this stuff is that no matter how safe you make things, there’s always, as we know, some other hazard lurking. Though you’d have to feel pretty prepared this year if someone gives you the Terrorism Emergency Kit. For just $399.95 your kit (packaged in a sturdy backpack) includes (among many other things) food, water, a solar blanket, water purification tablets, an AM radio, a two-person tent, utility knife, stove, a flashlight with 20-year batteries, the always handy duct tape, smoke hood, a laminated guide to bioterrorism, and an air taser or stun gun.
You know that expression, “I’d rather die?”
In fact, my mother told me all she wants for Christmas this year is that I get a will. And I definitely won’t drive another mile without that hammer. Actually, knowing what my little boy could do with a hammer, getting the first-aid kit isn’t such a bad idea.
avanbuskirk@seattleweekly.com
Web sites: Pet safety/emergency kits: www.rubystone.com, www.skymall.com, and www.onestepahead.com.
