"Bud Webster - The Lordly Loofah" - читать интересную книгу автора (Webster Bud)

The Lordly Loofah
by Bud Webster
I wonder how many of us, as we lie luxuriating in our bathtubs, think about the romance and mystery of
the loofah? I know I certainly never had until the mail brought me a brochure from the Loofah Institute of
America (Box 3819, Piltdown, IL 97584). Along with it came a letter from Bob Cranepool, LIA Vice
President in charge of Promotions, inviting me to visit the huge loofah quarry in Piltdown.

Knowing very little about the production of these fascinating objects, I took advantage of his hospitality
and flew into O'Hare. After hopping the Piltdown shuttle bus ("Visit Piltdown and See What Makes
America Great!"), I checked into Doris and Milo Blavatsky's Bear-in-the-Woods Bed and Breakfast. A
press pass and hard hat were waiting at the desk, and after dropping off my luggage, I rented a Yugo and
headed for the outskirts of town.

After only a few minor difficulties (I'm delighted to see that towing charges are coming down), I finally
arrived at the front gates of the Stanko Loofah Works and was met by Bob Cranepool and the president
of the company, Greg Stanko. There, in a short but moving ceremony, I was presented with a key to the
middle-management washroom, a tee-shirt with the legend "My Parents Visited Piltdown and All I Got
was a Lousy Chunk of Fibrous Matter", and a replica of Mount Rushmore molded from loofite.

"You know, Bud," Bob said as we trundled up to the loading docks in an electric golf cart, "there's a lot
of misinformation floating around about loofahs, and we're certainly glad to have an opportunity to set the
record straight."

"Darn right, Bob," said Greg. "As someone who's spent his entire life in the loofah business, I just don't
understand how some of these stories get started." He shook his head ruefully. "Why, I was reading in
the New York Times just the other day some report about McDonald's using loofahs as filler in their
hamburgers, and I'll tell you I was on the phone to their editor toot sweet."

"They'd probably be the better for it, Greg," laughed Bob. "But seriously, that's the sort of thing that we
see twice a year at least. Sometimes three."

"They printed a retraction," Greg added with a shrug, "but it was in the cooking section below a recipe
for Hunan eggplant and nobody saw it."

Of course, I'd heard the "urban legends" about loofahs: spiders laying eggs in loofahs and bathers being
bitten, the loofah exploding in the microwave, the loofah picked up by the side of the road late at night
and later disappearing. The list is almost endless, and they're all, according to Bob and Greg, untrue.

"There's just no way," Bob told me, "that drying a loofah in a microwave can cause it to explode, and
nobody with a firm understanding of how loofahs are processed would give such a story any credence."

"Which brings us to the first step in loofah production," Greg interrupted good-naturedly as we turned a
corner. "'Sounding' for loofite."

In front of me was a huge platform surrounded by workers. As I watched, a cage was lowered onto the
platform by a derrick. "That's the most important part of this industry, Bud," Greg said proudly. "That
cage is full of little Mexican hairless dogs. We spray 'em down with used motor oil and then let 'em loose
in an area we're testing for loofite. If they come back all pink and clean and happy, we know we've
struck it."