On Flatulence Down Under

20 January, 2007

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Whilst availing myself of a very tidy public restroom, I came to the realization that since my arrival in Australia, I have only farted maybe three times. This is most unusual for me and a serious cause for contemplation. This observation came into my consciousness as the result of the unavoidable shared auditory experiences that occur in public toilets. Specifically, almost without fail, Australian women seem to save up their flatulatory gases for emphatic expulsion immediately following the draining of their bladders. Has this phenomenon merely gone without my notice in the USA? Did I miss some crucial point of instruction in just how to accomplish such specific control over ones digestive by-products? Do men do this? (I know Kevin doesn’t – he much prefers to release his foul wind when exiting a crowded escalator.)

But more to the point, what is the reason behind (smirk) my relative lack of anal exhalations? It couldn’t be the heavy alcohol saturated beer…or the shrill sulfurous wine…that runs counterintuitive. Might it be the lack of orange-dyed cheddar cheese? Or the dramatic increase in my level of physical activity? Could it be that the water here is so much cleaner or perhaps the presence of fluoride? There is no doubt that the meat here is of a higher quality and less likely to be infused with brine solution to ensure rich moistness. But then what are those other women eating?? I’ll bet it’s all that tea and coffee, or maybe Vegemite…

Regardless, I suppose I should simply rejoice in this unexpected benefit, placing a tick mark in the plus column for Australia.