Thursday, December 13, 2007

We meet again. At the turn of the tide. The great storm is coming, but the tide has turned.

A brief story for your consideration:

Today, Red returned to our work site. Some of you loyal readers, the nerdiest among you (and, most likely the most handsome and beautiful) may remember Red from September, when he grabbed a live wire I found in a wall with a pair of pliers. He exclaimed, "Awwww shoot dang!" as sparks flew from the wire and set some insulation on fire inside the wall. Red returned to our work site today to hook up the plumbing underneath the home we are working on.

Let me bring you back to late August, my first day on the work site. Ross Abrams, our one time crew leader and hero and I opened up the floor of the home we are now finishing up only to discover that there was no sewer system. Rather, all the sewage ran directly under the house. The then 100 degree heat, poor ventilation, and years of sewage build up produced quite the pungent scent... it stung the nostrils. Phillip, a German volunteer who left earlier this year aptly dubbed it the "lake of sewages." Our solution at the time was to dump 2 tons of gravel upon the lake of sewages thus vanquishing it and burring it in memory and horror stories for all eternity... or so we thought.

Fast forward back to today; when the need arose for some brave individual to travel to the mountain of gravel that rests upon the lake of sewages to complete the plumbing. We had to call Red. Red reminds me of that one character from the Water boy with Adam Sandler, the coach who no one understands. Red has one of the thickest Kentucky accents I have ever heard, and thus, I understand only about 57.6 percent of the things he says. He always wears this torn and tattered Boston Red Sox hat he found in a parking lot and constantly spits apple flavored Skohl tobacco. In all honestly though, he is incredibly skilled, a hard worker, and a good teacher. I was wiring an outside light (incorrectly) and he gave me some solid advice and taught me a few things here and there along the way. A good man. He arrived on the scene and asked, "where's Ross?" We sadly told him, with sombre voice and bowed heads, that Ross had left us to go to maintenance. Red starred at us blankly, mouth open, eyes wide in disbelief that Ross could have left us once and for all. He was a man who could recognize the end of an era and the dawning of a new age. He then suited up and went under the house to plumb.

A few hours later, Red came up filthy, but successful. I was the only one inside, working on some drywall mud and shoe molding in the bathroom. Red came in and we talked a little bit about this and that. He then said something which I did not understand, "Maken ure dem vave oof". To which I replied, "Uh, yeah, haha, oh yeah ok." I of course had no idea what he said. Then he said, "I'm going to turn the water back on." He departed to go out to turn the city water back on. So I kept working. About 30 seconds later I hear this hissing sound coming from the newly installed pipes. "HISSSSSSS" it became louder and more proximate to my location. I thought, "OH, DEAR LORD" and suddenly realized, "huh, Red must have said, 'can you please turn those valves off before I turn the water on.'" Just then, water exploded from the valves in the room like Old Faithful flooding from the pipes and spraying all over the walls. I exclaimed, "SHOOT DANG" and frantically turned them off, getting completely soaked in the process. Red came back, saw me completely drenched and the soaked room and said, "....shoot dang boy." Indeed, my good fellow, indeed.


  • Gil-galad was an Elven-king.
    Of him the harpers sadly sing:
    the last whose realm was fair and free
    between the Mountains and the Sea.

    His sword was long, his lance was keen
    His shining helm afar was seen
    The stars above in heaven's field
    Were mirrored by his silver shield.

    But long ago he rode away
    And where he dwelleth none can say
    For into darkness fell his star
    In Mordor where the shadows are.

-J. R. R. Tolkien

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Just like Hemingway, you never disappoint in describing the odors of the day. My nostrils were burning just reading about it.