Passionate Attachments
In the pages of Salon, where our progressive betters ruminate, Nicole Karlis ponders the latest fashionable anxiety. Specifically,
Stories of heartache, tears, stress and dehydration that people experienced after a forced separation from their water bottles.
Says Ms Karlis,
I have an irrational fear of the water bottle going missing, resulting in suddenly being thirsty and unable to access water. For the record, I did not start using a reusable water bottle until I moved to the Bay Area in 2013.
Perhaps this is one of those moments when the significance of a statement may not be fully appreciated by the person making it.
Carrying a water bottle with me everywhere I go has turned into… a form of security, one that I’ve become strangely attached to… I am not alone. Plenty of people in my orbit have expressed a similar concern — an unease, really — at the prospect of misplacing their reusable water bottle.
Now, now. We mustn’t rush to judgement.
For many, losing one’s water bottle will wreak havoc on their day, even their week.
I’m trying. I really am.
I sent out a query to the public to see if others felt what I am now calling “water-bottle separation anxiety.” I received over a dozen responses, suggesting that I may have tapped into a cultural phenomenon – one that relates as much to health and psychology as it does to our complicated personal relationship with natural resources.
What follows is a catalogue of unobvious woe and amateur dramatics. “Activist Manuela Barón” – whose area of activism is left fashionably unspecified – explains how her ancient, battered water bottle had become a “part of” her, and how the loss of it, at airport security, resulted in a swell of emotional activity:
“I cried as I went through the scanner and ran off to my gate; I didn’t realise it would be like saying goodbye to an old friend.”
At which point, it occurs to me I may be misusing the word explain.
Lynell Ross, “a founder and editor who lives in California,” shares another tearful saga, in which the temporary misplacement of her water bottle left her “devastated.” And reduced to using a mug.
“It honestly threw off my entire day,” Ross said in an email.
Theresa Leskowat, “a therapist in North Carolina,” is, it seems, similarly afflicted, and tells us how she spends her days “reaching for my phantom water bottle.” Other accounts are more intense and aspire to the realm of opera:
Mary Kate Celini… told me via email that her water bottle is her “sidekick in daily activities.” She’s been carrying a 32-ounce reusable water bottle every day for six years.
And then tragedy struck.
“Recently, my partner took it when we were at the gym and he left it behind; My world felt like it was falling into chaos.”
Falling into chaos.
Ms Karlis goes on to mull “our” attachment to the plastic water bottle as a “an object that provides a sense of comfort.” (The word our, needless to say, is bearing quite a load there.)
I can’t help but think the attachment is emblematic of something deeper. In a world where we are constantly inundated with news about climate change, the attachment to our reusable water bottles could be more about a fear of our basic needs not being met by nature.
Or maybe it’s more to do with a particular demographic being prone to neurotic behaviour, or professing such, at least. Say, people within the orbit of Salon columnists, and all-purpose “activists” who respond to humdrum non-events by bursting into tears.
I’m trying. I really am.
Yes, you’re very trying.
—-Oh, hullo all, have you met David, my straight man?
I received over a dozen responses, suggesting that I may have tapped into a cultural phenomenon
Over a dozen with an opinion on a an entire culture.
One should be impressed.
Yes, you’re very trying.
Ba-dum tisshhh.
When I was twenty three years old I put down the dog that had been mine since I was ten. When I say I put her down I mean I put her down, by my own hand.
Should I laugh, or cry, at seeing people wailing at the loss of their adult-baby bottles? Perhaps the only sane response is to pray fervently for a ‘poxie-clypse to come and provide them a brief few days of perspective, before it kills them all, and leaves the collective human pool of intellect a little more potable, a little more sparkling.
In a world where we are constantly inundated with news about climate change, the attachment to our reusable water bottles could be more about a fear of our basic needs not being met by nature.
Again, anxiety farming rears it’s head.
Other accounts are more intense and aspire to the realm of opera:
. . . I could see Homer and Jethro singing about water bottles . . . that would be rather apropos for them—and for those quoted in the article . . .
Ms Karlis goes on to mull “our” attachment to the plastic water bottle as a “an object that provides a sense of comfort.”
Plastic you say?
Again, anxiety farming rears its head.
I once lost my wallet – a tad more important than a battered old water bottle – and was mildly annoyed by my carelessness, and then by the faff of cancelling cards and whatnot. And then, again, minutes later, by the realisation that I hadn’t in fact lost the bloody thing, but merely left it the pocket of a different pair of trousers, which made the card-cancelling faff entirely unnecessary.
However, I did not burst into tears.
Nothing infantile about this bottle obsession. No, not at all. Perfectly normal to panic when your bottle is taken away at the tender age of 30. Move along.
“the significance of a statement may not be fully appreciated”
Or she is trying to promote/instil this latest neurotic “disorder” in vulnerable-to-suggestion people.
Il nous faudrait une bonne guerre…
Il nous faudrait une bonne guerre…
Hark at you, classing up the joint with a dash of French.
“For many, losing one’s water bottle will wreak havoc on their day, even their week.”
– Oh, the HUMANITY! Losing one’s water bottle, losing one’s crutch if you will – one’s anchor to the very world making some sort of sense to the tortured psyche – then slowly going insane, then slowly dying a miserable death, curled in a moaning ball in some dark corner.
And the epitaph did read, “UNTIMELY DEAD, of a first-world problem”
I recently lost, in quick succession, two of my three Gillette Contour Plus razors. These are the old kind made when Gillette was good, and are hard to replace; an issue because I have heaps of blades, hate modern razors and those lades with so-called “lubricating strips”, and refuse to give Gillette another cent while they’re on their current woke platform.
How I struggle through each day with this grief and loss is truly something; if it wasn’t for my relief courtesy of my crop of singing potatoes, I’d really be in a mess…
Next, we will hear about “hydration justice” based on irrefutable scientific consensus that ypipo are disproportionately represented in the water bottle community.
Hydration privilege will be a thing, and an issue in the 2020 Democrat debates.
“I rushed through the airport only to be stopped at TSA because, of course, my bottle was full of water; I had no moments to spare but the [TSA] agent told me either I tossed the bottle or I’d have to go to the back of the line and miss my flight,” Barón said.
I suppose chugging it was out of the question.
Not sure if this is the author or one of her dozen respondents.
“Or she is trying to promote/instil this latest neurotic “disorder” in vulnerable-to-suggestion people.”
– I get it! A whole new class of VICTIM! And a very useful one too:
“Before I pass sentence, would the defendant kindly explain to this court what possessed him to dynamite the Sydney Opera House during the Kiss reunion, start the Chicago Fire and murder Cock Robin?”
” – I lost my water bottle!”
“Oh… well then, case dismissed.”
Has this ever happened to any of you? Asking for a friend…
*tickles button*
*tickles button*
[ Giggles coquettishly. ]
Bless you, madam. When visiting a house with cats, may you never forget the antihistamine.
After HOW many years of this horrible TSA theater does she not know you can’t bring a full bottle of any kind to the gate at the airport????
Ye gods I have an old water bottle I got at Walmart – yes that evil place – I bring it to the gate empty (DUH) and fill it at the nearest water fountain. I do this not to save the planet from being choked on plastic, but to avoid paying exorbitant costs for a little bottle of water past the TSA checkpoint. The TSA have trashcans nearby for just this purpose. Dump it, or chug it – but then that would make too much sense, and she wouldn’t get to write this overwrought piece of nonsense.
That said, over my lifetime, I have formed sentimental attachments to physical objects – something I really like that works/fits/looks really well, and yes, gotten upset if I have lost or broken one. That’s human, I think. But I don’t throw a public tantrum over it. Deal with it, and move on.
Hark at you, classing up the joint with a dash of French.
Top-rank polyglotting, and no mistake.
I have an irrational fear of the water bottle going missing…
Not so irrational perhaps. She could be accessing folk memories of the Before Times (pre-1999) when sudden death from dehydration was an all-too common occurrence.
Top-rank polyglotting, and no mistake.
I need
fancy and expensiveunstained coasters. I’m taking this place upmarket.This isn’t even a first-world problem, and raises the following question: “How do we maintain our grip on reality in the face of rising affluence?” Kate recommends periodic famines to keep our feet on the ground, but that seems excessive.
Or maybe it’s more to do with a particular demographic being prone to neurotic behaviour, or professing such, at least.
Would it be unkind of me o note that all these neurotic people are women?
Is it any surprise these same people are utterly terrified of a 1-2 degree rise in average temperatures?
Would it be unkind of me o note that all these neurotic people are women?
Heh. Rusty, you’re not supposed to say those things out loud. The more you make life comfortable, the harder they will work at finding something to complain about. Sometimes, when my to-do list is short, I try to procrastinate fixing a broken thing in the house until something else breaks.
I think the article MIGHT be a parody, but I’m not sure.
I have the same problem with Everyday Feminism.
folk memories of the Before Times (pre-1999) when sudden death from dehydration was an all-too common occurrence
Us feral kids of the 50s-60s whose mothers cried “go play outside!” would quench our thirst with a drink from any convenient hose.
I’m reminded of the eminent Iranian physician, Fereydoon Batmanghelidjh, who not only identified the hitherto unrecognised condition of ‘chronic dehydration’ but also its cure (‘drink more water’). His daughter Camilla was no less gifted and will be remembered fondly by many here. Her lasting achievement was burning through more than £40 million of public money.
It’s clear to see why recent studies have shown that leftist are three times more likely suffer from a mental illness. This supports those results.
@Dis
I have a solution for your Gillette razor blade conundrum: I also have a Contour razor and am rapidly running out of blades since I too refuse to give Gillette another cent. Woke bastards.
So give me all your spare blades. Problem solved!
I tried to cry but I could not for I had no more tears.
Alas! Alas! I am desert dry in the midst of the waters of life.
I drink fear in a handful of dust.
I need
fancy and expensiveunstained coasters. I’m taking this place upmarket.I have a pair of lightly used Baltika in the haversack. Should tide you over until the next Instalanche.
Replace “water bottle” with “binky” and it makes some semblance of sense.
Women express anxiety over losing large, stiff, cylindrical object.
I will leave it to other, cruder commenters to draw possible psychological conclusions from that, and shall remain wafting above the fray.
Women express anxiety over losing large, stiff, cylindrical object.
Sometimes a water bottle is just a water bottle, but other times…
That is why I drink only from disposable plastic water bottles and throw them all into landfills. No Water Bottle Separation Anxiety for me, and I get the satisfaction of causing environmental activists to gnash their teeth in impotent rage. In fact, I suspect the Venn overlap of environmentalists and people with WBSA is nearly 100%, so it’s like getting a two-fer.
Easy as clubbing retarded baby seals, isn’t it?
I could believe that Ms. Batmanghelidjh simply ate the money.
I could believe that Ms. Batmanghelidjh simply ate the money.
Or spent it on surplus circus tents.
Nicole Karlis’ attachment seems . . . infantile.
Somehow, I think this relates: https://twitchy.com/brettt-3136/2020/02/18/bbc-video-examines-the-struggles-of-getting-a-haircut-as-a-non-binary-person/
Why are they all women?
Somehow, I think this relates:
I call BS on the whole thing, I live in a tiny town in South Flyoverlandia, and the barber shop I go to cuts the hair of anyone who walks in (we have both genders here), so I am having a bit of trouble believing this gal can’t find an accommodating shop in London.
Of course if she wants to match her present style (if you can call it that) finding someone in London who cuts hair with a polesaw and hedge trimmer might be dicey.
Lost a 1L water bottle once, and I did experience some fairly negative emotions out of it. Not because it was my friend or even because I was in dire need of water (yes I was on deployment, but I had 6L of water in my pack, and the rest of my section was quite happy to share if need be). It was because my Platoon Sergeant would kick my ar*e when he saw my webbing with a water bottle missing. Also, it would go down as Loss Or Damage – Member To Pay. Those Q’s are ruthless.
Fortunately, a mate had a spare one which leaked. Even though it couldn’t carry water, my now-occupied water bottle pouch avoided scrutiny from said Platoon Sergeant. As an added bonus I could 1-for-1 with the CQ, saving about six bucks being docked from my pay.
Sorry, totally forgot where I was going with this…
That article about ms. Batman… was curiously lacking in curiosity. 40m pounds funded? A few hundred cash packets handed out? A few trips across the pond? A little probabilistic arithmetic suggests about 30 metric buttloads of high-denomination cash has disappeared, yet the hearing at issue seems to be merely about a few years banishment from that particular pig trough. What am I missing?
I had a 45 Degrees 40 oz water flask that I used for Jazzercise class. It fell off the fridge and dented the screwtop. Made it hard to tighten down. I’d had this flask for several years… I ordered another. Tossed the other into the recycle bin.
Does the fact that it may have been a dark and stormy night give my tale of woe any greater gravitas?
Somehow, I think this relates
In reply, someone deploys the term performative narcissism, which sounds about right. That the BBC laps it up uncritically, gushingly, is no surprise. That it expects the rest of us to do the same is vaguely insulting. Unless, of course, fashionable hair salons really are famous for their crushing heteronormativity and brutally oppressive gender enforcement policies.
Why are they all women?
Statistically, as a group, women score higher than men on tests of neuroticism, across cultures and age groups. Leftist women seem unusually prone to neurotic thinking.
Somewhat related.
After HOW many years of this horrible TSA theater does she not know you can’t bring a full bottle of any kind to the gate at the airport????
To be fair, the point of the USA is to normalize in a new generation the idea that the “Papiere, bitte” checkpoint model is a normal thing. Most of the regulations are nonsense reactions to things that were only going to be tried once.
These people vote.