Sunday, November 21, 2010

John Goes Down on the Dishwasher

I found out that I can accomplish great and foolish things when I have a headache .  I don’t know if I had a migraine or a wholegrain headache but it was a throbbing that would have reduced Theodore Roosevelt into  a whimpering democrat and over the edge of sanity to the Progressive Bull Moose Party.

Yeppers.  I had a humdinger of a headache and it was about to get worse. Headaches are part of the  human messaging system that warn you to slow down and don’t stare to hard at a computer screen or lay off the monosodium glutenate—get some rest, close your eyes and meditate and  medicate that pain away and if you are a good John Mahogany, this body may let you live yet another day.

Well, I am not a good John Mahogany, I am a male and I can do anything I want regardless of how stupid it might be because by golly!  I’m a manly man!

Ummm right……

Rumpelstiltskin mistook my head for a first born child and tried to pry it off my neck.

But seriously, this whole mess I am about to pour onto you began as a simple earache and cascaded into a broken dishwasher.

Friday:  Because the Work Week Ended

I was feeling fine until the end of the day at which time I logged off and shut down my work systems.   I sat there smiling smugly to myself---a pleasant undisturbed weekend. I would build my animals, make custom sculpts for clients and work on my carousel project.  I was also looking forward to the new Blender book I had just purchased over at Amazon.  It had just arrived and so I was all revved up for an enjoyable read on this very cool modeling program.

Then it began—I went to bed—an easy task at the end of the day—and then the night took me to the land of Winkin' Blinkin' and Nod (this is a very cool place to be—its where ideas are born so keep a notebook by your bed at all times)---I went to bed at midnight and one and a half minutes later, I woke up feeling not very well rested….well, it was 6:45 am and I could not hear, I had a ringing in my ears, runny eyes and  nose, itchy throat—I was the Pizza Hut supreme pizza of allergies and it wasn’t going to get better.


I took a shower (helped a little), shaved (well doesn’t help allergies but it’s a reasonable morale booster), dressed and stumbled down to the kitchen where I made a pot of Sleepy Tyme tea (read SLEEPY), I drank my tea and promptly fell asleep in my Lazy Boy recliner---I was awakened as my wife and daughter came bounding into the living room announcing that they were off to tour bookstores for the day.

Now a quick break for some information here—I drank my tea and I did manage to set down the cup—it was at that crucial moment that I fell into a fairly deep sleep. Now here’s the thing—in MY chair my head does not always stay seated in the upright position—no it would rather list like a sinking ship to one side and list it did—all the way to the right side sinking my weekend into a maelstrom of intense head pain.


SO…they came abounding, and I woke up with a sudden jerk!   And then it happened. The most bone crunching, skin tearing, fire starting, lightening striking,blackboard screeching, rock pounding bolt of pain imaginable. 

But did I cry out in pain?----er no—instead, I gritted my teeth and moved my body into a position that “looked” like my head was in an upright position.

And then---I smiled and it was I can tell you with all my God fearin’ heart that this was the smile of the damned—that grimace of death was going to freeze on my face—I just knew it!

And so they left….for a minute there was silence as I tried to figure out what to do—and then in pops my daughter.

“Dad, we won’ t be long—there is aspirin in the bathroom, I set you out a glass of water—If your headache does not subside  I want you to go and see a doctor.”

(how does she know to do that?)

"OK, hon—I will go on Thursday (knowing full well Thursday was a holiday)—is that ok?"

“sure, dad as long as you go." and she turned and as she did i heard her murmur "we'll save you some turkey".

“Bye honey”  I watched her leave and when I heard the door latch, I sprang into action.

Well, not so much springing as it was crawling—I crawled into action letting myself slither for the chair and on to the cool tile floor. I then manage to work my way into a standing position that any bell ringer or grave digger would have been proud to have as their own—I then hobbled to the bathroom—found the aspirin that she put out and then worked my way to the kitchen where I found the glass of water that she had left for me.

Popping the painkillers choking the down the cold water I went  to my office and to the computer and headed Inworldz where I promptly fell asleep once again.


When awoke, I was staring at a screen saver and the room was spinning. I was also feeling nauseous so naturally I assumed a glass of chocolate milk would solve my current problems.

Now just a brief moment here---when your head is pounding, your sinuses are holding you prisoner, you do NOT think about what is good or not—at this particular and admittedly peculiar  moment I am a dog acting solely on instinct and being the dog that I am I would have sniffed another dog’s beckoning butt if I thought it was going to make the pain go away—I would have urinated on a fire hydrate and chased a cat up a tree if I thought that those particular acts would make the pain go away—I was delirious and i knew that i had to make some sort of magic potion involving chocolate to make the nasty stabbing and thrusting in my head go away.

So I make it to the kitchen and there is the dishwasher, open and lid down, tray pulled out waiting to be loaded with dishes but I ignored it because all I knew was that the only way I was going to cure myself of this literal pain in my neck was to have my glass of chocolate milk.

And THEN it began:

  1. I pull out the milk (there are two jugs i choose the top one and open it –it has gone sour
  2. I make one of those wrinkly nose faces that is standard practice for “bad Smell”
  3. I move quickly to take it to the sink to empty
  4. Sudden, massive rush to my head and
  5. I am spinning, falling to the floor
  6. I crash land onto the dishwasher lid and roll of it on to the floor
  7. Where I hit my head and am rendered unconscious
  8. The sour milk empties itself all over my clothes and exposed body such as my face and my hair and hands soaking its way through my shirt, pants and of course into my underwear and tee shirt.  I smell like cheese gone bad.

Now, being semi woozy and knowing full well that I was wet and smelling bad and my head was still pounding I did the only natural thing that I could do:

Change clothes, you say?  Take a bath because you stink.  Nawww—I headed back to that refrigerator to complete my sworn mission—I was dripping from sour milk and my blood pressure was off the charts but I knew that I needed to complete my task --not just for me – but for all those crazies out there who have let their headaches best them in an unfair fight—so I pulled out the good jug of milk and the Hershey’s syrup and I made the richest, the creamiest, the by golly how good this is--have a Hershey's chocolate-gasm –the frothiest glass of chocolate milk that would have made a Pennsylvanian shudder from cocoa envy at the mere sight of this glass of  comforting delight.

I put the glass into the dishwasher, slide in the trays, set the settings, close the door and amble away to my second shower.


I shower---AGAIN—but appreciating the very hot water splashing all over my body—it seemed to be helping my head and my head was beginning to clear:

OMG!  I did a swan dive into the dishwasher---I am almost 6 feet tall and stocky--i am a big ol' man bear and I murdered the dishwasher!

I tip toe down the hallway, head starting to throb again and peeked around the corner—there it was the magic silver box that took care of me after home cooked meals and the lights were out, not on –as in OFF.

I opened the dishwasher and peaked inside—when I landed I dented the door and broke the connection to the main electrical line.

I sighed the great sigh that only the fully emasculated and defeated man could sign and slammed the door of the newly deceased appliance shut.

1 hour later, my dishes were clean.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

The Magpie is Here!

Here is the thing: I like to think i am a fairly well informed user of a computer.  I play virtual games. I have owned a website company, I send a mean email, i can IRC with the best of you.  

But i forget.  You see the pain of my existence is passwords--i have a string, no--a heavy hemp entwined rope of long forgotten and mostly unused passwords and usernames.

so i forgot my password to this blog and fiddled and fussed about until i a managed to worm my way back into this blog's user interface.

My plan for this small and hopefully regular tome is to talk to you about my life and the animals that i make and that I love.

But for now this is just a quick hello out there to  let you know that me and my big mouth are here  and that i am tapping away at this keyboard desperately hoping that it might magically turn into an IBM Selectric typewriter with the cute little silver font balls and the never abundant supply of white out and white out tapes  harmonizing with crumpling wads of paper and the endless scrip scrip of wads of said paper bouncing listlessly off the rim of my trash can.

Let the blog begin!