The secret scourge of winter

In these frigid times people complain about snow, and sleet, and bitter winds that seep through cracks and crannies into their very bones. Then there are the attendant illnesses and maladies, from the sniffles to walking pneumonia (also the boogie-woogie flu, but an outbreak hasn't been reported since the late 70's, and hopefully will never be heard from again).

None of these affect me too badly. Being from Wisconsin I never really feel alive unless it's 20 below, with swirling wind and lake-effect snow. And as a guy I refuse to admit vulnerability or weakness, so as far as any of you know I never get sick. 

There is one other hidden aggravation, one that doesn't come up in polite conversation, unless it's a discussion between two fifth-graders. It causes no small amount of discomfort, and is almost completely unexpected; a silent killer, if you will. I'm referring, of course, to static electricity.

We recently got a new couch (for free! Yay Jewness!). Slowly but surely we're tenderizing the cushions so they're perfectly cushiony, and the best configuration for the two of us to nap comfortably at the same time. So far it's matched up quite well against our old couch. Except for one small, itsy-bitsy problem.

Every time I sit on it, and get up, and touch something or someone, I get a nasty shock. I've seen the tiny bolt of electricity shoot from my finger to Wife, or to a fork, or to the microwave. There is no remedy, no preventative measure to protect me. I'm at a loss. I can't not sit on the couch: it's my couch. But now I can't go from my couch to the kitchen without inflicting upon myself some substantial pain. 

I want to love my new couch, I truly do. But this is really pissing me off. So I may have to light it on fire. And then not only will there be no more static shocks, but our apartment will also be much warmer. There's something to say for that. 

Where's my kerosene?