Toenail Clippings Worthy of Saving
By Donnnn Esmund
Gerald R. Huffenstuff gazed downward at his aching feet, splayed across a vintage ottoman purchased at an antique store on his last trip to East Aurora. He bent forward as his hands gripped the stainless steel implement known as a “toenail clipper.” He was already upset because to obtain this toenail clipper he had to set foot in a “big box” drugstore because toenail clippers are not sold anywhere else.
But what really made Mr. Huffenstuff upset was the notion that his wife had just told him to “throw away his toenail clippings” after he had clipped them.
But Huffenstuff prefers to keep his old toenail clippings.
Huffenstuff looked down on his feet and saw the overgrown toenails and was reminded of days gone by. His feet had dipped into the waters on Lake Erie just recently as he sat by the shoreline taking in the beauty of the sights around him. A few weeks earlier he had stubbed his toe while walking across the room and, as a result, part of his toenail ripped. But while he was stubbing his toe, he looked upward and saw a picture of his daughter. He thought of how he and his daughter would play “This Little Piggie” and he would pinch her little toenails.
To Huffenstuff, his toenail clippings are not just “trash basket ready” pieces of waste.
They are priceless artifacts worthy of preserving.
I spoke with Mr. Huffenstuff recently on an overcast early spring day. His stockinged feet were languorously resting on his prized ottoman. The one stocking had a hole near the toe where an overly long nail he had waited too long to cut had ripped through the fabric. But to Huffenstuff, the hole is a battle wound and a testament to his refusal to back down.
Huffenstuff keeps his toenails in a gilded bowl to the left of his chair and ottoman.
His wife is heard clinking pots and pans from the next room.
“She always clinks the pots and pans louder when she is mad at me,” Huffenstuff says as he gives me a knowing look.
He then picks up his gilded bowl of toenail clippings and gingerly sifts though them.
I smile back at Huffenstuff. This is a man who refuses to back down.
If only the residents of Buffalo could do the same.