I do not speak for all Vallentynes. Â That would be foolish, unwise, unfair, unjust and just plain old tiring. Â We are a diverse bunch, as far as Scottish Canadians with a lot of red hair in the bloodlines get. Â Ok, so we are probably diverse in nature more than appearance, but just follow along here today, ok? Â I speak actually for a certain strain of Vallentyne, a unique flavour of Vallentyne. Â The kind of Vallentyne I’m talking about today is the Vallentyne that grimaces when they work hard.
It’s probably a genetic thing, a DNA encoded quirk that some of us are lucky enough to have (I said lucky, dammit). Â If you have it, you know what I am talking about; it’s there as natural as breathing, as compulsory as a closed-eye sneeze, the reflex to snarl or open and close your jaw as you work hard with your hands.
I decided to not take a selfie to demonstrate this, for obvious reasons. Â It’s not pretty. Â It can only be described as a silent scream in defiance of the task at hand, without which the work is just not done. Â When you see a Vallentyne snarling while scrubbing, shoveling, lifting, scraping, tightening, or just generally getting all up in some job’s face, you know shit is getting real. Â It’s going down. Â That job doesn’t know what hit it. Â It’s not a fair fight, really. Â Not every job requires it, but in the right hands it’s a powerful tool.
Tonight as I contemplated writing this, I was working around the house, snarling periodically. Â One thing became clear though, it’s not always an advantage. Â This fact came to me as I realized that I had to exert a considerable amount of control to close my damn mouth while I scrubbed the toilet. Â The added closed-mouth handicap added at least 10 minutes to that job, which made me think that Vallentyne Work Bandanas would be a thing that might be useful to a small, specific bunch of fine, mouth-breathing, hardworking folks.