“The right to be heard does not automatically include the right to be taken seriously.” &045; Hubert H. Humphrey (1911-1978), speech before the National Student Association at the University of Wisconsin&045;Madison, Aug. 23, 1965

I think I have found yet another source of entertainment: Reading product labels.

The other night when I finished my supper I put my dirty dishes on the counter (only until there were enough to wash). Lying face down on the counter was an empty bottle of barbecue sauce, waiting to be rinsed out and placed in the recycling bin. I noticed that the label on the back of the bottle actually read, in bold capital letters, “Use it indoors or outdoors!” What a selling point! I had always wondered when they were going to finally develop condiments that didn’t congeal in fresh air. Imagine what this will do for the picnic industry!

This led me to wonder what other label humor I could find in my house. Since I was already in the kitchen, I dug through the cupboard where my wife keeps her baking supplies until I found the Crisco. According to the “Nutrition Facts,” one tablespoon of Crisco equals one serving. That’s right, one serving. I want to know just who is eating this &045; and how. Perhaps they are spreading it on their pancakes at the breakfast table. Or, maybe they melt it and drizzle it over popcorn.

I didn’t find much else in the kitchen, so I started digging through the medicine cabinet next. Talk about a goldmine! The first thing I grabbed was my shaving gel. The can reads, “Avoid spraying toward open flame.” O.K., first of all, shaving gel doesn’t exactly spray &045; it just kind of oozes out of the nozzle. Actually, I’ve never heard of any aerosol shaving products. But forewarned is forearmed, so I suppose for safety’s sake I should probably stop shaving around the campfire and use the bathroom sink like everyone else.

The next thing I found was a box of adhesive bandages. A disclaimer on the box read, “Sterility guaranteed unless individual wrapper is opened or damaged.” Apparently, these will keep your wounds germ-free, unless you actually use them properly. I think I found a way around this though &045; don’t take the bandage out of the package. Just use tape to fasten the unopened package to your wound. That way, the manufacturer is still accountable if you develop an infection. And you probably will.

The box also claimed that the bandages were made of a “lightweight, breathable material,” which would let air in, but moisture out. How does the bandage know the difference between air and moisture molecules? That’s really weird, isn’t it? Kind of like how some cough syrups contain both an expectorant and a cough suppressant. Ah, the mysteries of modern medicine.

Next I grabbed the tube of toothpaste, which informed me that “this product contains no sugar, like all ADA-accepted toothpastes.” How impressive. Is there actually some brand of toothpaste out there that does contain sugar? What do they call it &045; Sweet Tooth?

The most obvious choice didn’t even hit me until last &045; shampoo. The label tells me to “wet hair, lather, rinse and repeat.” The only problem is that the instructions don’t exactly specify when to stop repeating. Just imagine the effect this must have on obsessive-compulsive people. Oh well, at least their hair will be nice and shiny.

My wife pointed out a few humorously labeled things in our home office. One was a bottle of Liquid Paper correction fluid, “for whenever a professional appearance is required.” Because, you know, why reprint the document when you can have smeared blobs of white stuff all over the page, calling attention to your mistakes?

She also handed me a package of Windex glass and surface wipes that are “not for personal hygiene or as a baby wipe.” Go figure. How many people do you know who bathe with glass cleaner? The package also says to “unplug electrical appliances before using.” That’s really something. The package was only a free sample, but if it will enable me to use my appliances without the need for electricity, I will buy it by the truckload.

Dustin Petersen is an Albert Lea resident. His column appears Tuesdays.