Hunters, bananas, and do-it-yourself organ cryogenics

31 May 2005  around lunchtime  Matt Winckler

Well, I’m back. After not writing any posts for so long, it always feels like I ought to come back with a bang and some sort of hilarious explanation of why I didn’t bother posting anything in the interim. Failing that, I’ll just say that the whole fiberglass-banana-cocaine-smuggling operation had nothing to do with me, and my lawyer further advises me that I have no comment on the subject of Floridian manatees.

Last week our second son Jaeger was born. You pronounce his name almost the same way you would pronounce Yeager, but his nickname is Fritz, not Chuck nor Meister. He was born in the wee hours of Friday morning. We had a home birth, which turned out to be vastly preferable to a hospital birth. It’s almost like Home Shopping Network or something–you get the same goods, but all from the comfort of your own home! Plus, you get all sorts of interesting bonuses or free gifts, like placentas and umbillical cords. I understand that umbillical cord blood can solve all sorts of health problems down the road if it’s stored properly. Unfortunately, “proper storage” costs only slightly less than operating your own private helicopter, which is why I’ve commissioned the Winckler Secure Cryogenic Storage Facility (derisively referred to by other more obstinate members of the family as “the upright freezer in the garage”). Hopefully the goods won’t get freezer burn; in keeping with the WSCSF’s third-world philosophy of operations we use disposable Ziplock containers rather than brand-name Tupperware. For a modest fee (directly proportional to the nature of the material), you too can have your perishable biohazardous organic materials cryogenically stored in my most excellent facility, which is at least as secure as a Russian nuclear fuel storage warehouse. To me, it’s a win-win situation. If the business doesn’t take off and the cord blood gets all freezer-burnt, at least we will still have all the ingredients on hand for a world-class practical joke. Nothing livens up a party like a freezer-burnt placenta.

Moving on, in an effort to improve the appearances of my cryogenic storage facility, I painted the front of the warehouse over the weekend. While I’m not sure whether it actually brought the operation out of the third-world, the paint job did at least vastly improve the facility’s appearance. Hopefully now that the structure doesn’t look like a condemned meth lab my neighbors will stop leaving dead muskrats in my mailbox.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 31st, 2005 at 12:54 and is filed under Journal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.