Thursday, June 21, 2007

 

IMPELLER IN MY CELLAR





I have done everything to an oil burner than is humanly incomprehensible and on one frigid morning encounter I was only wearing white socks.
I emerged from the basement steps with number 2 fuel oil on by breath and black smudges all over my body. My wife had just come down the back stairwell and just stopped and stared at me her powers of observation and cerebral processes disabled like a blown boiler engine frozen between bewilderment and nonchalance.
“What are you doing, ’she asked and I said, ”I am the repairman of your fantasies” and she asked, “do we have heat?” and I said,” No” and she said,” Can you make coffee?” and I responded “why should I make coffee” and she said, ”I though we were talking about my repairman fantasy.”
I grew up in a household with a disabled father and a sump pump in the basement ready to electrocute my dumb ass so I never went down there. And what is the difference between a grommet and a gasket and why are they so important?
My oil burner had a red and black cast iron housing which protected my nose from a spinning device called an impeller. One time when the baseboard heat wasn’t working I backed out four bolts and was holding this impeller hanger in my left hand as scolding hot water from the entire system drainer out onto my right knee. Because I’m athlete and stupid I managed to put it back together which was like plumbing naked under a hot running shower.
I have touched a spinning fan in a car engine, shot myself in the hand with a big assed nail gun, crashed to the ground aboard sliding ladders and once feel though an attic into the room below catching myself on the ceiling joists in a double chicken wing emergency save.
Then there are the mistakes that kill things rather than people like the two times I plugged a radio into a 22o amp outlet because I thought it would get stronger a.m. reception.
The NPR website just did a story on the most common household mishaps that send people to the emergency room. People who listen to classical music should not touch power tools and neither should athletes. Those two groups represent the most situationally stupid people I know.

Freddogg

Comments:
Also, dont cut bagels with butter knives.
 
But with your track record, you are a winner in the Darwin Awards. I myself have fallen out of a Dave Lemon's (pre-24 karat parrot days)pick up at 35 MPH whilst clutching a box of 10 penny nails, stapled my thumb to a 50 lb bag of ice with a foot-powered industrial stapler, fallen off the old railroad bridge scaffolding over the Lewes canal (and to be fair, that did cost me a hip replacement 2 years ago) not to mention the many times I woke up to the soothing sounds of soy beans brushing the sides of my (soon to be totaled ) car, after a night of revelry; the thoughtful lads I was drinking with arranging me behind the wheel, putting my car in drive and providing me with these words- "Milton, I think , is that way.'
 
My most memorable home accident occured when I was newly married and living in a 10' wide mobile home in Va. Beach. I was under the kitchen sink when my wife decided to use the oven, directly across from the sink. She turned on the gas, realized she didn't have matches and went to get one, leaving the gas on. When she returned I happened to glance under my arm in time to see this great orange ball roaring toward my ass causing me to back out hurriedly and bump my head, knocking some sense into it and knocking everything else not connected to something off the walls. My wife, fortunately, was simply knocked backwards and struck dumb, one of the few times in our married life. As I ran outside to cut off the propane my next door neighbor stepped outside and asked if I had heard that explosion, I replied "Heard it? I saw it, up close and personal."
R. M. Ward
 
Post a Comment



<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?