A Warm Round of Applause for ‘Exothermic Oxidation
Sam Venable
Department of Irony
I have no idea how “exothermic oxidation” works. I wouldn’t know what to say — other than “ouch, %$&*!-it” and then drop like a load of bricks — if “exothermic oxidation” ran up and whacked me over the head with a tire tool.
I couldn’t pick “exothermic oxidation” out of a police lineup.
But, boy-howdy, am I glad “exothermic oxidation” exists. It sure does keep my hands and fingers toasty.
“Exothermic oxidation” is what occurs when iron powder is mixed with water, salt, activated charcoal and vermiculite and then exposed air. The result is heat — without flames, fumes or smoke. Happily, you don’t have to stock up on all those ingredients. Or mix them. Someone will do it for you, and even wrap everything in a tidy, flat little package. All you gotta do is supply the air.
If you haven’t guessed by now, I’m talking about cheap, disposable hand warmers that sell by the mega-bazillion this time of year. They’re available at supermarkets, hardware stores, outdoor shops, convenience stores and anywhere else commerce is conducted. Usually they come in packs of three, although I’ve seen, and purchased, many of them in batches of 10. You can never buy too many.
Nor can you buy ’em too large. None of those itty-bitty, palm-sized models for me, thank you just the same. I prefer the “body super warmers” which are advertised to stay hot for 18 hours.
OK, so technically, “body” is misleading unless we’re talking chihuahuas; they’re only about 2½ times larger than the regular ones. And 18 hours stretches the truth like a cheap rubber band; eight to 10 hours max has been my experience. Nonetheless, one in each coat pocket will turn misery into comfort all day long.
When I was a kid, “cigarette lighter” hand warmers were all the rage. You know, those flat, shiny metal cases tucked inside a red velvet pouch. The hateful things were a pain to keep stoked with fluid. They were difficult to ignite in the wind. They stunk like the dickens. And if a lit one ever slipped out of the pouch and touched bare skin, it felt like you’d just been brushed by a glowing horseshoe fresh from the forge.
Not so these days. I don’t care how many pairs of gloves and mittens you own or how much high-tech, waterproof fiber they contain; when it’s big-time cold, gloves and mittens won’t do a complete job unless used in tandem with good ol’ “exothermic oxidation.”
Don’t take my word for it. Ask anybody who ventures outdoors from first frost to spring thaw, for work or for play. If I’m hunting or fishing during cold weather, I’d rather leave guns or tackle at home than hand warmers. How in the name of Daniel Boone did we ever exist without them?
Of course, “big-time cold” here in the South means anything from 38 degrees above zero Fahrenheit down to minus-100 degrees Celsius — and let us pause for a moment so ice-fishing and snow-snowmobiling Yankee readers can laugh their frozen heads off and call us wimps. We’ll return the favor when those same Yankee readers melt and moan about “big-time hot” when both the temperature and humidity are pushing 90. So there.
Sam Venable is an author, comedic entertainer, and humor columnist for the Knoxville (TN) News Sentinel. His latest book is “The Joke’s on YOU! (All I Did Was Clean Out My Files).” He may be reached at sam.venable@outlook.com.