Bob's Corner
A "weighty" subject
We’ve been figuring out a weighty matter at our home in the form of a new bathroom scale. It has a futuristic look with some resemblance to the ship in the Star Trek series, “Voyager.”
This new hunk of slightly frightening electronics with digital readouts and row of streamlined buttons, plus its chrome highlights and sleek design, replaces our former scale that looks like a garbage scow in comparison. The old contraption is so old that we cannot recall how long we’ve had it. For all we know, it was a wedding present, which would make it nearly 43.
We figured that we needed to replace it recently while trying to determine the weight of Rocky 2, our Pomeranian who hasn’t been feeling well. The idea was, Jan would hold Rocky and stand on the scale; then we’d weigh only her; and we’d subtract and get the doggy dimension. Except that she stood on the scale four times with Rocky, and each time we got widely differing totals.
That was a clue that the old weighing machine was not accurate, and not telling the truth. Although, sometimes the truth (about weight) is difficult to swallow. And that’s more than a figure of speech.
Anyway, the new machine is the first bathroom measuring instrument in my experience to come with a user’s guide. I mean, this is way more than a single sheet of instructions; it’s a booklet. I was elected to inaugurate the device while Jan piloted it, which meant that I had to remove my socks and dampen the soles of my feet. I was nervous, being told that the scale would send current to my feet.
Eventually we determined my weight, my body mass, muscle mass, body fat and body water. I felt as though I had entered the Twilight Zone of bathroom scales. And as usual, not all the figures are good, although I’ve never been known for my good figure.
The booklet lists the “proper” figures for all those aspects. Don’t you find them annoying? It’s like the charts you used to see in medical offices denoting what your height should be based on your weight. For me, I was supposed to be 7 feet tall, but never got there.
It figures.