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| HUMOR FROM THE PUMPKIN PATCH By Marti Lawrence Articles published in The Examiner Newspaper Days Spent In The Dark As Luck Would Have It As luck would have it, (which of course, means Misfortune has struck yet again) it has been an unusually rainy summer. This is precipitated (sorry, bad pun) by the leak in my roof. According to the Rules of Misfortune, because my roof has developed a leak, rain will fall in vastly greater quantities than normal. Once the roof is replaced, expect drought conditions. |
| On those few brief days when the skies haven’t been drenching us, I have contacted roofing contractors to come by for estimates on the repairs. This has been an interesting experience. First, these are humans who have discovered some magical way to defy The Laws of Nature. They scurry up their ladder to the rooftop, which is pitched as steeply as Mt. Everest, and walk around on it as if it’s normal for your toes to point to your nose (without your legs being broken). I frown, knowing Gravity, the tights-and-cape-wearing-superhero, “Enforcer for The Laws of Nature," is always on alert for any transgressions in my area. I expect at any moment for the person-on-the-roof to become the-person-on-the-ground. But it doesn’t happen. They refuse to share the secret of their magical anti-gravity ability with me, and glance around nervously after being asked. Second, there is something about being given the ability to defy gravity that causes many of them to believe that conversations with mere mortals such as myself, must be conducted on a very simplistic level. They talk down to me (even when they’re not on the roof) and believe I am incapable of understanding home construction principles. Many of our conversations went something like: Roofers: “See, up on the top of your house (motioning their his hands, to assist me in understanding the concept of “up”), it’s covered with shingles. And this here thing, that’s your lightening rod. Only it ain’t supposed to be on the ground over here, see?” (They motion and point again, and I look at the lightening rod lying on the ground, still attached to the chimney brick which was struck by a large tree limb during a storm, causing it to dislodge and tumble to earth). They kindly inform me that the brick and lightening rod were once attached to the rest of the chimney, which coincidentally, is missing a brick. Me: “Well, you see, a while back during one of those big storms…” Roofers: “You know what probably happened? That big ol’ limb hanging right there by the chimney…” (They pause momentarily, mentally calculating wind speed and branch/thrust ratio). “I’ll betcha that limb knocked that brick off! And then…the brick AND the lightening rod fell down over here!” They saunter off proudly, basking in the glow of their cognitive abilities, and I make mental notes to share the story with friends. This is a mistake. Karma comes around quickly, to let me know I shouldn’t deride others. My lightening-rod-less house gets struck by lightening. I heard the storm approaching before dawn, and got up. Since childhood I have been the, “get out of bed when it starts to rain” person. My task then was to close all of the windows. Now it is to unplug all of the electronic equipment. The thunder and lightening was fierce, but suddenly there was an enormous flash of light and a resounding “BOOM!” and everything went black. And smelled awful. The rain continued pelting the building, but I ran outdoors to inspect, foolheart that I am, with a body full of metal replacement parts. I looked around, tensing and ducking at every flash of lightening and found no gaping holes or blazes. I am one of the few souls left on this earth who does not own a cell phone, so once the storm had passed, and the house hadn’t ignited in flames, I ventured out to a convenience store to call the electric and phone companies. After selecting “Press 1” or “Press 2” a few hundred times, my reports were made, sympathy was accepted from the nice store clerk, and I returned to the unlit, rapidly-warming house to wait. It would be a long wait. Hours passed and turned into days. No-electricity, no-telephone days. I built up my arm muscles dramatically from fanning myself. Daughter and I usually watch a soap opera at noon, so we play-acted what we thought might be happening with the characters and storylines. We read by kerosene lamp or sat on the front porch until bedtime, looking at the stars, and swatting mosquitoes. My interaction with the electric utility company cannot be put into civil enough terms for me to dare print. (Think I didn’t learn anything from talking bad about the roofers?) I will say that after the third day of my weary appearance to call from the pay phone, the convenience store clerk had heard me make so many calls she gave me a pity donut. God bless her. At long last, our telephone and electrical power were restored, and I am trying to think of it as gratitude and learning experience. We learned a lot and are extremely grateful, so Fate, if you’re listening, I promise to be polite and not say anything derogatory. At least not where anyone can hear me. |
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