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SYNDICATED COLUMNIST
Before he was Alexander Graham Bell, Alexander Graham Bell was just Alexander Graham Bell.
We know the story. He had spent years tinkering on one item after another, but nothing succeeded. And people kept saying his name was silly.
Yet he persevered, and against all odds, invented the item that bears his name: the Graham cracker.
But the public hated it — Is it a cookie? Is it a biscuit? Nobody knows — so he settled for making his money off the telephone. That was the moment that he became… Alexander Graham Bell.
Apart from Isaac “Fig” Newton, no other inventor rivaled Bell in creating useful and delicious inventions. But both of them, like that first batch of Graham crackers, have expired.
Nowadays we don’t have nationally-known inventors, and even fewer have cool names. I consider this a net loss for humanity.
If anyone in my generation gets national recognition, it’ll probably be for navigating an obstacle course while having their eyes glued to their phone. Literally.
Some collegians I know are about as bright as black holes.
But I have to be fair. We haven’t had much of a chance to prove ourselves yet. All of the brilliant scientists of our age are probably still being called dweebs by their fellow students.
All this points to an obvious conclusion: I must become the nationally- known inventor of my time.
While other nerds debate astrophysicoimmunodorkology, I’ll singlehandedly revolutionize the world. Someone has to do it.
Just like in high school, I’ll settle for doing all the work and taking none of the credit. Or maybe it’s the other way around.
To make my mark on science, all I have to do is create a brilliant invention, something like the telephone, or at least the fig newton.
Okay, how about a good invention? Or just an invention? Remember, these things don’t have to serve a purpose to make money.
Take the calorie. It’s a completely useless unit of measurement, but it’s the foundation for the billion-dollar health food industry.
The nutrition label for the Graham crackers I’m eating while writing this column informs me that one cracker (or cookie? Or biscuit?) can heat one gram of water by 37 degrees Celsius.
That is, it’s 37 calories. See? I told you it was a useless unit of measurement.
The other parts of the food label are more helpful. Graham crackers may contain 1.5 grams of fiber, but they contain zero grams of pizza. That’s far more important information.
Instead of eating, say I start working to put my name in the scientific pantheon. I’m too lazy to invent the telephone (besides, someone’s already done it), so I’ll invent a unit of measurement.
Let us call “one paskhaver” the length of time needed for a stick of butter to reach room temperature after being taken out of a fridge.
This has applications outside the food industry. Consider the following phrases.
“I’ve been stuck in traffic for at least three paskhavers.”
“How many paskhavers do you need to finish those TPS reports?”
“It’s taken me five paskhavers to even learn how to pronounce paskhaver.”
And so on. It’s a perfectly silly name to suit a perfectly silly purpose. And I bet it’s a million-dollar idea.
In a couple of paskhavers, I wonder if I’ll look back on this as the day Alexandra Paskhaver became Alexandra Paskhaver.
