Post 745 - Splinter Groups and the Glory of Collecting Toothpicks

SLIVERS IN THE TEETH - AND OTHER DENTAL WOODWORK
Notebook Entry - February, 1988

    Like matchbook collectors, mavens of the toothpick tend to hang around restaurants, bars, and cocktail waitresses.  The beginner starts young, relinquishing his Nuk nipple only for the finest quality woods, eventually transformed from the mere chewer of straw at the corner drugstore into a member of the most elite of associations, the Splinter Group.  Among those in the SG, collecting toothpicks is not so much a hobby as it is a way of life.

    Becoming a member of the Splinter Group (or its spinoff, the Reformed Splinters, also known as "R-splint" or RS) has its advantages, the most striking being its dental plan, deemed by some to be the most comprehensive in the nation.  Since the membership is renowned for its clean teeth, group coverage represents a minimal expense to the underwriters.  In addition, potential members are drawn by the annual "It'll Never Get Better If You Picket" bus tour which encompasses the major forests and lumber mills of New England and the Northwest.

    How does the casual collector of toothpicks meet the strict qualifications of becoming a member of the Splinter Group?  There are two ways: (1) the applicant must submit an affadavit attesting that his collection is his own and not an inheritance; that no part of his collection consists of plastic cocktail forks or the rubberized "reproductions" that plagued the market from 1924-1937; that his collection contains at least one specimen cut from (a) ivory (not the soap, and not from unintended sources--one applicant was denied membership for trying to pass off slivers from his Aunt Jessica's piano keys as the genuine article), (b) ebony or teak wood, and (c) sterling silver; or (2) he can send in sixteen bucks.

    I know I have derived considerable pleasure in collecting toothpicks for the past thirty years.  In fact, my many duplicates were glued together last summer to patch a hole in the garage roof, thus reassuring me and scoffing at those who consider gathering these indispensable shards of wood a waste of time.  My prized possession is a specimen either used by George Washington or a bit of fallout after some heavy teeth gnashing during the American Revolution.  In any case, I keep it in a velvet-lined box somewhere in my basement.  Someday I hope to find it.