Gaskets. What are they? Most people don’t think about gaskets. I certainly don’t. But my moustache was tingling this morning—a sensation I have learned, over decades of award-winning journalism, never to ignore—and so I felt compelled to investigate.
A gasket is a seal. It goes between two things. It keeps fluids from leaking. Why don’t more people appreciate this? I asked Koko, my Siamese cat of extraordinary intelligence, and he stared at me with those laser-blue eyes in a way that suggested he already understood the molecular properties of rubber vulcanization. Yum Yum, meanwhile, batted a small O-ring under the refrigerator, which I can only interpret as a commentary on planned obsolescence.
Pickax has had its share of gasket-related incidents. Last month, a faulty gasket at the Dimsdale Diner caused a gas leak that, remarkably, did *not* result in an explosion, arson, or homicide—a statistical anomaly for a town of three thousand where the per capita murder rate rivals that of a medium-sized cartel territory. No one comments on this. Why would they?
I was reminded of gaskets when my own plumber presented me with a bill for fourteen dollars to replace one in my kitchen faucet. Fourteen dollars. For a ring of rubber. I told him the Klingenschoen Fund was established to benefit Moose County, not to subsidize highway robbery, and that I would be deducting the expense as a charitable contribution to infrastructure preservation. My accountant assures me this is perfectly reasonable.
Do gaskets matter? Can a civilization function without them? Who is manufacturing them, and are they watching my property? I noticed a strange van parked near the apple barn last Tuesday, and while Koko did not knock any books off the shelf—his usual method of identifying criminals and solving cases that baffle local law enforcement—he did sneeze twice, which I am not prepared to dismiss.
Some might say I am overthinking this. Those people have never had a moustache that functions as a divining rod for truth. They have never lived with cats whose intellectual gifts border on the terrifying. They have certainly never written a column this important, on deadline, as a public service to readers who frankly do not deserve it.
Gaskets.
Leave a Reply