(Felt)

Historians, those intellectual masters of combining research, imagination, and occasionally absurd fiction, propose felt originated over 7000 years ago. Truly amazing. Predating weaving, it’s still more useful in certain circumstances, than any cloth: except for denim, or maybe lace. Compare the felt hat to its pitiful cousin the toque, for instance. The felt hat doesn’t just keep the ears from getting cold. It actually heats them. There is no logical science for how this works, but it’s as if the sheep was still stuck to the wool in the felt, its warm innards still pumping out warmth via some odd conduit for metabolism. In -40 windy weather, the felt hat follows merrily along with its wearer, a confident barrier between warm and the Antarctica mountaintop chill. The toque on the other hand, has holes. Only slightly better than being buck naked neck up. Frostbite sets in after 5 seconds; at best 10. There’s not a lot of difference. The resulting punctured frostbite blisters are equally painful either way.
Felt liners inside heavy winter boots cause sweat to steam off toenails as the wretched boots are finally wrenched off, after twisting hither thither for too long. Or longer still. A tropical plant could grow in there – especially those found in caves not needing sunlight. Soft evidence exists for this reality. It’s called mould, felt’s only archenemy. No sunlight needed for that stuff. Occasional bouts of oxygen and any liquid available are substantial. Old organic wool, combined with that worthwhile oft maligned organism, and you get a stench fit to scare off mosquitoes.
But the best application of felt: those specialty tabletops. Imagine poker or pool without it. The cards would flip haphazardly all about, like fish from the ice hole. That perfect speed and English to sink the eight-ball off the nine-ball from a carom off the two-ball in the side pocket wouldn’t exist without the stuff. That blonde seemed impressed.