I’ve never given much thought to the towels in my life, and there have been many: The embroidered bamboo bath set I bought my mother for Christmas and somehow never saw again; The bleach-stained and biologically diverse samples found hanging in the bathrooms of Airbnbs; The ancient and threadbare heirlooms that burst forth, Jack-in-the-Box-like, from my kitchen drawers at home.
All are towels and all absorb water to some extent … at least presumably, Mom.
But what makes a towel bad or good anyway? Bad or good relative to what? How could you determine if Pittsburgh’s ubiquitous Terrible Towel is in fact a terrible towel? Apologies to Myron Cope.
I could almost hear Cope’s disembodied voice urging me on, telling me that, same as with the search for life on Mars, the answer was simple: “Follow the water. Double Yoi!”
Suddenly I knew what I had to do.
I was ready, and with a bag of donated Terrible Towels in hand, I got to work — but not without first googling the phrase “Double Yoi!”