My Invention

I've decided to become an inventer.

I know, I know. I write. I'm a writer. My focus should be on becoming a published writer. Whatever.

I'm going to become an inventer, and I know exactly what I'm going to burst out of the gates with: the Proportion Stick. No, the Perspective Pole. Wait, let me get out my thesaurus, because Proportion Stick and Perspective Pole do not sound like a million purchases ringing through cash registers.

The Harmony Branch. It doesn't have a whole lot of punch to it, but it will ensure sales to the new-agey, crystals-loving, feathers-wearing crowd, at the very least.

What is this Harmony Branch™, you ask? Well, it's only one of the most important tools to living a well-balanced life that does not impinge upon the ability of others to also lead well-balanced lives. I am surprised that they weren't invented fifty years ago when most of us were hooked up to the electrical grid and civilized into indoor plumbing, rotary dial telephones, and pre-packaged individual meat slices.

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The Harmony Branch™ is basically a stick, much like a meter (metric) or yard (imperial) stick, only probably less long. I say probably, because I haven't worked out all the details yet. I have made a few preliminary sketches, but my drawing ability is less than stellar. The object I have in mind looks very much like the image at the left. Of course, I realize that that is a picture of a folding cane for the visually impaired, but it is roughly proximal to my vision of the basic model of the Harmony Branch™. You get the idea. It will be a take-anywhere, highly portable, foldable stick that comes in varying lengths and colours to suit a variety of tastes.

What in the hell is this fucking stick for, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. It's not a fucking stick. It's a Harmony Branch™, and it puts things in perspective. If you are having problems with proportion and perspective, this stick is IT. Simply hold it up against whichever situation simply must be disproportionately bad, and BAM, the situation will snap into focus, and its diminutive stature in relation to the other aspects of your life will become immediately self-evident. In short, it's the cure for perceptual myopathy born of unconscious situational relativism.

For example, you find yourself in front of cheese display at your grocery store, and they are all out of the ten-year-old white cheddar that you had your heart set on for that evening's wine and cheese event you are hosting. Your first impulse is to ask the service person why in the hell they always understock their goddammed aged cheddars, and then perhaps you'll want to ball up your fists and swear to the bland-looking clerk that you will never return to this middling grocery store that does not make its orders according to customer buying habits.

BUT WAIT! You have your Harmony Branch™ in your bag! You pull it out, unfold it, hold it up against your situation, and realize that you were altogether mistaken about the size of it. Next to the Harmony Branch™, this aged cheese issue can be seen in proper perspective. You chuckle to yourself about how you got so worked up over a wedge of white cheddar when you already have five other kinds of cheddar already waiting under glass at the auditorium, and wasn't it your sweetie foo-foo puppykins liver cancer that was truly bothering you anyway?

Is your boss freaking out over a missed comma? Does your partner lose his/her brain over the fact that you continually leave a sopping cloth to fester in the bottom of the sink? Does your parents' knee-jerk disapproval continually hammer away at your self-confidence? Take out your Harmony Branch™, hold it up against the matter, and watch the sheepish grins break out left and right.

So, that's my invention. I'm licking the stamps to mail away for patent rights at this very moment. The Harmony Branch™ would save humankind from so many headaches. One glance at the Harmony Branch™, and we would all be smacking our heads and thinking How could I be so short-sighted and narrow-minded again? Because, really, isn't it a lack of persepective and sense of proportion that robs us all of a good deal of the happiness we should so rightly have?

I'll Have Some Shoes With a Side of Phlegm, Please