 It seems that everything I touch turns to guano lately. Had a flat on the new shoes my wife just bought from Sears. I get my lines together and stalk off to do battle with the shop; they’re wrong and I’m right … and that’s all there is to it. They grin, say “Yes, sir” and fix my tire. I didn’t even get a chance to be ugly.
I went to Harvest Foods on Saturday morning in my wretched old wreck. Construction partner comes in to tell me that my right front tire is most definitely, seriously flat on one side. There are less than 2,500 miles on the tires; somebody is after me! Who is paranoid?
I thought I was in the grips of the Ides of March until my Benton friend began to tell me what she has been through lately. Compared to her, I’ve just won the Maytag washer on “Queen For A Day.”
The friend is very shy, retiring and not at all wanting to see her name in the Courier … unless you corner her, and then there is a transformation to miniscule pit bull.
Seems she fell prey to a TV ad about a can opener that sits on the lid of a can and opens it quickly and cleanly every time — on TV. She says that she loved the appliance for two weeks until it stopped stone dead. “I put it on a can of beans, opening the container about one eighth of the circumference, and then it pulled into the station and did not hit another lick. I could not pry that thing off the can for anything in this world!
“I had to turn the can upside down to read the numbers on the bottom of the can opener to call for help. Of course that meant that the can of beans leaked a bit. The lady on the phone told me to try a couple of things, which I did. Nothing could pry that thing off the lid. I finally put the can opener, still stuck on the can, in a bowl and chunked the whole works into the refrigerator and wrote them a letter. I told them about buying the contraption and how pleased I was … initially. If they wanted me to, I opined, I would be happy to send it back to them, but went onto explain it might be a bit messy. BUT, I really did need a replacement and if they wanted this one back to just let me know pretty quickly as it would soon be smelling up my refrigerator. They wrote me a letter assuring me that they did not want me to send the opener in, that they believed me and they were more than happy to replace it.
“I also went to the parade yesterday and was thinking how nice it was there parked under the tree at Smith-Caldwell Drug Store, seeing all the young families there with their babies, balloons, chairs and snacks and how happy everyone was to be at the festivities. Then the rain began. At first no one moved because we were waiting on the parade that was only a block away. The Guv was beginning to get a little wet as he rounded the corner and then the cloudburst came! Everyone began to run for their cars, but the Benton band turned onto Main Street playing away and still in formation, water over their shoes; suddenly tubas went in all directions, drums were moving pretty fast and everyone was getting the heck out of there! It was a sight to see. It was a shame for the parade; everyone was looking forward to it, including us. Maybe next year.”
Same lady, second verse. On a Sunday afternoon in hot August, she saw smoke billowing into her kitchen. Assuming an attic fire, she called 911. Immediately two Benton firetrucks converge on her house, the chief included. By now, smoke is billowing into the living room. Firemen enter her home, check out her attic, but find no fire. A fireman then tells the homeowner that he smells ammonia, that the fire is chemical and orders her and her daughter from the house. Firemen then begin a search for chemicals that may be combustible.
They then ask where the air-conditioning units are located. As the firefighters check the units, a compressor shot out an enormous amount of acrid smoke, leaking oil onto the ground. Shaking their heads, the firemen began to get the smoke out of the house after determining that there was no fire; the compressor had died and was causing the smoke, with the other units bringing the smoke into the house. The lady and her daughter waited patiently on the porch for permission to re-enter the house. The daughter asked the firemen for coloring books they had once distributed at her school. They didn’t have any in the truck.
Thirty minutes later, the security alarms began to go off. “They sounded and sounded and sounded,” she said. “I couldn’t shut them off. I called the ADT people and they told me what to do. I did all that and still they went off. I called my son, who had just arrived back in town from a trip. I knew he was tired and I hated to call him, but ‘what to do?’ He came and, turned off the electricity to the house. The alarm system would not regenerate; he also had to fix that.
“I ran fans for the rest of the evening, thinking this was the end of it.
“The next morning, the son brought the air-conditioner men. They told me that when the one unit went bad, it doused the attic unit in hot oil, burning up the coils, so they had to replace all that. This was the week it was 107!
“I turned on the TV in the bedroom. It no longer worked; neither did the downstairs set. The fax machine also spit out its last message. All thanks to the air conditioners, I guess. Upstairs it was 90 degrees; not much cooler downstairs. I turned on all the fans to get the odor from the house as we were now becoming ill. The temp now went to 95 in the house and I gave up on it.
“The air-conditioner people came out, looked high and low and found nothing wrong. A repairman then found the kitchen vents closed tight, used to keep the original smoke from seeping into the house.
“Soon the house cooled down, (We got) a new TV in the bedroom and a repaired one downstairs. (Still don’t have a fax.)
“The next day the door bell rang and there stood three firemen. They brought my daughter a sack full of prizes, coloring books, stickers, rulers, pencils, papers … and instructions on how to get out of the house in case of fire.
“When my daughter was having serious seizures, they came to the house often. People do not appreciate what a good organization we have in the Benton Fire Department!”
This is two parts of a three-part travelogue; venture three next week.
OLD J.P. CAME into the coffee shop this week showing us a bill for $95 he received for dental work, namely cleaning his teeth. There were two things wrong with the statement: First of all it was from Harrisburg, Pa., a place where old J.P. has never been. Secondly old J.P. does not have a single tooth in his head.
FOR EXEMPLARY SERVICE ... Construction partner told us of a letter he received from the Kentucky National Guard. It stated that, because of his outstanding military achievements, the Guard was prepared to open negotiations for advanced noncommissioned officer rank upon enlistment, along with a handsome bonus. He sat down and mailed a reply that said he was most assuredly persuadeded by their kind words and the promise of remuneration. He also mentioned that he was 78. “They didn’t do their homework very well or would have seen I was busted four times from sergeant to corporal and received a medical discharge for which I draw a check every month.”
Ron Meyer is cartoonist, columnist and former general manager of the Courier. His column appears Friday.
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