Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Finding The Bad In Badminton...Maybe

If you're skeptical about what I'm writing this morning, then stand in line sister. I'm so unsure about my subject matter that I'm having doubts about even starting to type. The problem is that I'm using second hand information, and that doesn't make for good journalism, if we can call my blog that.

If what I've been told is true, then it won't affect the world in the same way that global warming or peak oil will, but it's symbolic of a society that's spiralling toward moral collapse.

I was at my parents' home yesterday, when the subject of badminton was brought up. It turns out that my son's 85 year old grandfather and almost 82 year old grandmother have taken to playing badminton in their backyard, though without the encumbrance of a net. I'm glad to see my parents doing this as it bodes well for my future. I can't imagine my grandparents ever being so spirited...it's amazing how every generation gets just a little more zany. If the effects of peak oil come to its rotting fruition in my lifetime, and it surely will, then my generation may be the last of the zanies. It's a tough call to make.

My father showed me the package of shuttlecocks, or badminton birdies, that he had purchased. Clearly stated on the outside of the package was that these fine feathered fliers were, indeed, made of feather. What came out of the package was textbook 'Made in China' plastic. I was appalled that they'd have the nerve to label them feather when there wasn't a goose, duck, chicken, albino budgie, or snowy egret plume in sight. Not even a bottled blond quill from a hello crow.

I should phone my father right now to ask when he bought the shuttlecocks, but it's currently 5:55 a.m. and he's probably out for his morning 10km run. Okay, dad doesn't run...he's almost certainly in bed, dreaming about badminton or Maria Sharipova, perhaps both.

'You're right, Simon, Maria seems to grunt more now that she's given up tennis balls for the lighter shuttlecocks'.

"Yes, it takes a lot more energy to make that birdie fly across the net.'

There is part of me that wonders if the original feathered badminton birds had the life plucked out of them a long time ago, with the container being refilled by cheaper plastic ones and long since forgotten. It's possible as it's been a while since the badminton equipment saw daylight. I need to find out if dad just bought the badminton birds, or if they've been around for a while. There will be no boycotts until I clarify this prickly point.

What worries me is that I can absolutely believe that that a company would say 'feathers' when in fact there were none. Take a look at the ingredients in your bottle of so-called mango cocktail. There's a pretty good chance that the first ingredient is grape or apple juice, with mango puree appearing further down the list, after fructose this or glucose that. It's clear that I've become jaded toward advertising...you can't always believe everything that you read.

Apply this to my blog today, and you will be wise. Be patient.

I'll follow up the blog posting with the truth about Cooper badminton birds. We need to know. I tried to find information about the Cooper company on-line but they, like plastic shuttlecocks, seem to fly under the radar's net. I did buy a Cooper ping pong table last year, and it turned into a warped piece of garbage, so I'll confess to being predisposed toward a fatwa on Cooper.

What happened to quality goods and truth in advertising? It's got me pretty mad, almost to the point of screaming. What to do? What to do?

Anyone for tennis?

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