Hi. I'm back. This is the first Mini-van-dad entry in years; I guess it is the holiday cheer just bubbling up so strongly in me that I just can't help it anymore. Oh, I'll be truthful, it is just the coffee kicking in. Even more truthful is that my wife got such a kick out the following near death experience (mine) that she encouraged me to write it down for posterity. Yes, there will be laughter when I am gone!
Whatever the motivator, it is great to be back in a kinder, gentler, less expensive venue (this is free as far as I know). Yes, times are tough and even resourceful minivandads are hurting. Well, actually, we are hurting more than pretty much any other segment of the population because we are multitasked to extreme (read near delerium) on a moment to moment basis without hardly any remuneration. Though, I do remember finding a quarter in between the cars seats once. That was cool. There was also an old french fry there, with some fry sauce too, but I consider those perqs. To the point, I am going to keep this entry particularly brief as I am heading promptly to Capital Hill for a bailout, or a shellout, or a bombshelter for hurting minivandads everywhere. Without asistance, we'll be underpaid, potentially homeless, forgotten, abused...would you buy underappreciated? Well, I hope so 'cause, in times like these, you fine taxpayers are my greatest asset...if I can get a bailout. I don't really remember exactly what I am supposed to get once I arrive, but my wife thinks its cool that I am going with a list, so that at least I'll look like I have a clear plan to revitalize the industry.
Oh yes, the list! This brings me back to Christmas! and Angels!
As some of you might know, I really try to be a good husband. (I am practicing all the time!) So, this year, when my dear wife asked me to hang Christmas lights on the roof of the house, I said no way, that's &$%# crazy. No, no, I actually paused, thought about how it was dangerous, electrical, and daring, so I thought that it was a perfect opportunity for a minivandad to generate excitement, panache, and real life skills that I'll never use in the workforce because there isn't one anymore! Actually, I paused, to give the impression of thought, and then after counting to seven or something I said yes, deliberately, but without any reticience. My bad.
Out came the ladder and out came the lights. In went the plugs and shined up all my stripes. Oops. This is not my poetry class. The first part of the roofline is easy to string with lights as it is over a balcony/deck. So far, so good. Then comes the hard part. We get out the next string of lights, yes I have faithful Christmas helpers. But in so doing, one of the lights break. Don't worry, no one was hurt. I just mumbled something inaudible that I don't even remember now. Then, I just kept drawing out the lights to continue along the roofline. At this point I am three-fourths the way up a sixteen foot ladder. That's right a SIXTEEN FOOT ladder. It was really cool and was kind of freaking me out, ok, ok just a little, but I didn't show it. I let others around articulate my inner feelings so that then I might more easily resist them. My wife and oldest son both chimed in, "Hey, you're making me nervous. Really nervous. Yeh it's kind of freaking me out." And another less invested child calls out, "Looks pretty dad." I encouraged all observers that instead of worrying, they might better use their concern by praying to their guardian angels to protect dear old dad in his civic activity of increasing our energy dependence and generating excess revenue for the local power company.
Just then, before I finished exhorting my fine helpers, I realized that the lights were still plugged in and that the broken light was not really all that broken. The filament was still illuminated, only the protective glass had broken, exposing the circuit for me to inadvertently put my fingers into it as I was pulling up more lights to the roof line. There were several sparks, the noise of popping circuits, and the very unpleasant smell of burning hair. And I was on a SIXTEEN FOOT ladder!
I checked my ungloved hand, it also happens to be my only hand, so I cherish it. The thought then occured to me, albeit a little late, that I should really be wearing a glove in this cold weather and working as I am with lights and electricity and SIXTEEN FOOT ladders. Then, not feeling any pain and not seeing a white light at the end of a tunnel, and still being on the said SIXTEEN FOOT ladder, I looked more closely at my hand and saw gray ash streaks around my wedding ring on my ring finger. The Christmas lights arced out on my wedding ring! I have always held that my marriage saved life and improved its quality immeasurably, but I really wasn't thinking that it worked this directly!
Now, without any pausing to imitate thoughtfulness, I call down to my fans and supporters, "The lights just arced out on my wedding ring. Yeh, I am okay, I just need to see about the lights and the fuse box." (When I am really freaking out, I don't cuss.) After making my descent, I showed the wife my ring and told her what happened. On the ring there was a soldering scar left when the electricity melted that spot. There was also a sharp fleck of some baser metal. (Yeh, it still kind of hurts when I touch it.)
After settling up with the fuses and what have you, I thanked my prayerful helpers for their support. I am convinced that without their prayers my guardian, I mean ARC-angel might not had intervened so promptly and fortuituously, and that I might not have been on the SIXTEEN FOOT ladder to tell them all about it.
Merry Christmas & check back in a week or so for my next post.
Chris
