The headline for this column might be a bit confusing. It’s not about a tie that men wear professionally and how you change it. It’s about the tie used to secure cat litter bags.
Let me explain. When it comes to opening packages, I’m one of those “tear the crap out of it” kinda guys. Rip it open. Spill the contents. Use your teeth if you have to. Don’t worry about whether there’s a “correct” way to open a box you’ve received.
This, of course, can cause problems when manufacturers or packagers choose to throw you a curveball. Rather than making the container easy to open, they design it in such a way that you can’t figure it out, probably in an attempt to frustrate you and get you to yell at your spouse or kids, “HELP ME, or I’m gonna pop a blood vessel in more forehead.” I’ve had more than my share of moments like that over the years.
Typically, my wife is there to help. She quietly, easily and successfully opens the package perfectly, like it came straight from her DNA. My response is a “thank you,” and, “How the heck did you do that?”
She’ll show me, and then I know what to do. She should write directions for companies. She’d be a billionaire.
Our cat litter bag changed how it was to be opened about 6-7 years ago. Previously the litter was housed in a paper sack lined with a thin layer of plastic. You just ripped it open. My kinda product.
They changed to a full plastic bag soon after that and used a thread through the plastic that you had to locate and yank to rip off the top. It took me multiple sessions with my wife to absorb that lesson and get it down. Many new curse words emerged during that time period.
I mastered it though. I was comfortable. Life was good. Get rid of the old litter first thing Sunday mornings, pull out the fresh bag, rip the thread off, listen to the rippling sound as it popped off, pour the litter, put the little roof back on, and the cats are good for another week.
Until the manufacturers decided to go to a zip tie a few weeks back that looked exactly like their previous system but didn’t operate the same way. Problem. I carry the bag in, lay it down, fumble around with my cigar-like fingers and can’t for the life of me figure out what has changed. Of course, there is nothing written on the container to say, “WE HAVE A NEW ZIP TIE TO CONFUSE YOU SO YOU CAN’T OPEN THIS BAG THE SAME WAY YOU USED TO.”
Instead, you kneel in the half-light, trying to read the small print, unwilling to get your reading glasses, because, “DAMMIT, I CAN FIGURE THIS THING OUT.”
Learning doesn’t come about through osmosis. Sometimes it is successful through trial and error, which was the case this time, as I eventually found were the “pull” was that allowed me to rip the thread and pop open the bag.
I didn’t have to get my wife, so there’s some solace in that progress in my bag-opening life. Some day I’ll recognize and understand bag-opening changes instantaneously, and then I’ll know it’s time to retire and teach others the tricks of the trade.
Let me explain. When it comes to opening packages, I’m one of those “tear the crap out of it” kinda guys. Rip it open. Spill the contents. Use your teeth if you have to. Don’t worry about whether there’s a “correct” way to open a box you’ve received.
This, of course, can cause problems when manufacturers or packagers choose to throw you a curveball. Rather than making the container easy to open, they design it in such a way that you can’t figure it out, probably in an attempt to frustrate you and get you to yell at your spouse or kids, “HELP ME, or I’m gonna pop a blood vessel in more forehead.” I’ve had more than my share of moments like that over the years.
Typically, my wife is there to help. She quietly, easily and successfully opens the package perfectly, like it came straight from her DNA. My response is a “thank you,” and, “How the heck did you do that?”
She’ll show me, and then I know what to do. She should write directions for companies. She’d be a billionaire.
Our cat litter bag changed how it was to be opened about 6-7 years ago. Previously the litter was housed in a paper sack lined with a thin layer of plastic. You just ripped it open. My kinda product.
They changed to a full plastic bag soon after that and used a thread through the plastic that you had to locate and yank to rip off the top. It took me multiple sessions with my wife to absorb that lesson and get it down. Many new curse words emerged during that time period.
I mastered it though. I was comfortable. Life was good. Get rid of the old litter first thing Sunday mornings, pull out the fresh bag, rip the thread off, listen to the rippling sound as it popped off, pour the litter, put the little roof back on, and the cats are good for another week.
Until the manufacturers decided to go to a zip tie a few weeks back that looked exactly like their previous system but didn’t operate the same way. Problem. I carry the bag in, lay it down, fumble around with my cigar-like fingers and can’t for the life of me figure out what has changed. Of course, there is nothing written on the container to say, “WE HAVE A NEW ZIP TIE TO CONFUSE YOU SO YOU CAN’T OPEN THIS BAG THE SAME WAY YOU USED TO.”
Instead, you kneel in the half-light, trying to read the small print, unwilling to get your reading glasses, because, “DAMMIT, I CAN FIGURE THIS THING OUT.”
Learning doesn’t come about through osmosis. Sometimes it is successful through trial and error, which was the case this time, as I eventually found were the “pull” was that allowed me to rip the thread and pop open the bag.
I didn’t have to get my wife, so there’s some solace in that progress in my bag-opening life. Some day I’ll recognize and understand bag-opening changes instantaneously, and then I’ll know it’s time to retire and teach others the tricks of the trade.