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Strong memories of soap

While watching an old rerun of a late 50’s TV show, I happened upon an old commercial about a soap product that was 99 & 44/100 percent pure. (I always wondered what that .56 percent impurity was and why if it could be measured. Why it couldn’t be removed to reach the totally pure mark?)

My memory took me back about 70 years to my last meeting with that particular product. The event started with the words, “I didn’t . . . “ and things went sharply downhill from there to the point that “pure “ had nothing to do with taste.

Polite society today would scowl on any parent resorting to the use of soap in convincing their child of the consequences of the use of an untruth to avoid other consequences which should be accepted and learned from. That “pure” soap tasted terrible, and the taste lingered for some time . . obviously nearly 70 years.

I learned two things from the experience that have been reinforced by other experiences in my life since that event. First, a lie always requires other lies to back up the first lie, and then the memory becomes overburdened trying to remember all the lies until one slips up and the house of cards comes tumbling down.

Second, the consequences of the thing being lied about are rarely as severe as the results of going to the trouble of creating the falsehood. In my case, I got the soap treatment from Mom, and then when Dad got home, it got worse.

The upshot of that learning experience was Dad’s belief. “When you foul up, admit it, fix it if it’s fixable, apologize if necessary, and get on with life.” Then he would smile that small smile that I loved so and add, “and don’t do it again!”

We’ve made a joke out of public service and politics because of the propensity of those servants to spin, exaggerate, misstate, and lie about large and trivial matters to such an extent that authority has become a dirty word, and leadership is no longer trusted.

We need my mom and her soap.

 

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