It’s a dangerous world out there.
It’s always been dangerous, of course, but we (the collective ‘we’, not ‘you and me’) keep finding new and different ways to jeopardise our very existence. The meal I’m planning for this evening? Apparently it’s potentially lethal — and not just because I’m not that good a cook. Write a blog post while sitting next to the router? That might just be a bad idea. Order a cup of coffee in a restaurant (and I use that term loosely)? That might require hospitalization.
Like I said, it’s a dangerous world.
Of course, if your coffee throws you into the clutches of the medical community or if your bachelor party gives you whiplash or if your cell phone tells you to walk onto a freeway, you can always sue. You might win. Or you might not.
Of course, ubiquitous lawsuits — frivolous or not — come with a price. There are no more see-saws, for example. You can’t get your oil checked. My local arena has banned cell phones (while at the same time putting Wi-Fi in the change rooms). And everything has a warning label. (Talk about first world problems.)
Recently I was removing the (excessive) packaging from a gift I had received. Unsurprisingly, the packaging came with a warning. In all-caps so I knew they were serious(or at least loud).
I contemplated the warning; it didn’t apply to me but I still worried a little. What did it say? It said
NOT INTENDED FOR CHILDREN 12 AND UNDER
Oh. What was this incredibly dangerous product that was unsafe for use by prepubescent human beings? Was it a poorly engineered piece of machinery? Umm, no. Was it poisonous? Not so far, no. Would it lead to criminal or anti-social behavior? Not as far as I can tell although with me ‘anti-social’ is a matter of degree.
It was a shirt.