plan

It was chilly today. I threw on a fleece vest that I hadn't worn in a while. Huh. What's that bulge in the pocket? Oh. A roll of duct tape. I had to go through a Secret-Service-type checkpoint the last time I wore the vest. Same bulge.

It had been at a children's Halloween party downtown. The burly dude at the magnetometer said "Sir, what is your plan for this duct tape?" This was the best question anyone has asked me since. My plan was to use it to patch my daughter's home made foam rubber pumpkin costume. They didn't completely like that answer. I said "I'm a man. I fix things with duct tape."

With that restatement of the obvious, all was fine.

All security questions should be asked this way -- not "What is this?", not "What is this for?". I'm sure this prompt is rooted in some delicate and beautiful point of criminal psychology that I don't understand.

I think this question should be deployed in realms beyond security. Imagine what life could be like if the Radio Shack clerk was required to ask you this. I would have a much less serious ewaste problem if I had to articulate, aloud, a reasonable plan for a gadget.

Him: Sir, what is your plan for this $35 power supply?

Me: I will use it as a replacement for a lost power supply for a camera worth $15.

Him: Sir, step away from the counter.

That dialogue would have saved me $35 but it's probably too intrusive for the American people. I'm sure the $35 adapter would be closer to $100 if we had to send all the clerks to elite training schools.

I think we could get most of the benefit from this just by getting people to answer the prompt without a burly armed dude and consequences that would go down in our permanent record. Brian Wansink banged out a pretty great book "Mindless Eating: Why We Eat More Than We Think". It's the kind of book that you'll later recall was by Malcom Gladwell.

Wansink writes:

... Over coffee, a new friend commented that he'd lost 30 pounds within the past year. When I asked him how, he explained he didn't stop eating potato chips, pizza, or ice cream. He ate anything he wanted, but if he had a craving when he wasn't hungry he'd say -- out loud -- "I'm not hungry but I'm going to eat this anyway."

  Having to make that declaration -- out loud -- would often be enough to prevent him from mindlessly indulging ...

I could lose thirty pounds of gadgets in a year if I used the same trick at the point of purchase. I think I'll try. Worry not, dear readers. That still leaves about a hundred pounds a year for me to write about.