Band-aids and the good life

There seems to be a hole in my education, and right now I don't have time to get on line and try to fill it. So if I perpetuate any heresies herewith, feel free to call and correct me.

I am not sure about what characteristics qualify a country for the status of third-world, second-world, first-world, etc. I think even in geography settings, the terms are more than a bit fuzzy in meaning. I am also quite sure that they don't necessarily mean what they used to.

But for the sake of launching this column, I am going to assume that our country is a first-world country, and I am also assuming that the abundance of laptops, cellphones, hospitals, antibiotics, celebrities and food are what keep us in that category.

I would like to add a few little items of my own to that list—necessities for civilized living which must certainly help to qualify a country for a first-world label.

In my estimation, a few developments worth mentioning are the digital camera, the I-Pod, Velcro, and last but not least, adhesive bandage strips, hereafter called band-aids. Band-aids have been around longer than the rest of the items I mentioned, thank goodness, because without band-aids to assist parents in raising children, life as we know it would cease to exist. Without penicillin and band-aids, most children wouldn't live beyond the age of five. At least that is how I remember it, and I am certainly glad that I was able to raise my kids in the age of band-aids.

A band-aid can cure a child who is dying of a hangnail, a bump on the head, a mosquito bite, a broken fingernail, chicken pox, a stomach ache, a sprain, a blister, road rash, and what else but a small laceration. Band-aids are especially beneficial when blood is in evidence. So it is not hard to gauge the contributions of the band-aid to the good life—or any life at all for that matter.

But dying children are not the only ones to benefit from the miracles worked by band-aids. Speaking of developments, my kids were pioneers in the area of new and innovative uses for band-aids. They discovered that they can be used for hanging pictures, wrapping packages, padding shoes, decorating mirrors, sealing diaries, splicing wires, and further, some obsolete uses such as mending cassette tape decks.

We should have been paid for our developments. Johnson and Johnson could launch a whole new advertising campaign based on our groundbreaking work.

The problem was that whenever someone cut a finger, there was never a band-aid in the medicine cabinet. We had to take them off the mirror, or the wall, or the tape decks before we could staunch the flow of blood and tears. (If you can get the tears stopped, you can live with the rest.) And some kids were particular enough to want a new one, fresh out of the wrapper.

So, put band-aids on another list—that list of things you have to hide if you ever want to have any. Things like chocolate chips, cellophane tape, scissors and glue.

One thing I have a problem with though: if band-aids are so wonderful, for injuries that is, why can't a kid ever leave one on for more than five minutes?