Charlie Hatton About This
About Me
Email Me

Bookmark
 FeedBurnerEmailTwitterFacebookAmazon
Charlie Hatton
Brookline, MA



All Quotes
Site Search:
HomeAboutArchiveBestShopEmail

« Not So Sincerely Yours | Main | Weekend Werind: Melts in Your Mouth, Not in Your Browser? »

The Cross-Wired Crackpot

(Lots of baseball buzz going on lately over at Bugs & Cranks. To wit:

Dancing with the (Dirty Bird) Devil: "There's no hurler this side of C.C. Sabathia in a padded suit of armor that's going to stand in there with Vick chugging up the first base line."

The Big Zero: "But thanks for the memories, Tommy. You did all right for a kid with a slapshot better than his fastball."

Wednesday Walk Watch: Week eiWght: "You'd think just by dumb luck, these guys would garner more than a walk a week. I guess some luck is dumber than others."

For those of you not into leather and horsehide and pine-tarred bat knobs -- and you don't know what you're missing, folks -- here's a bit of non-baseball buzz to tide you over, too.)

Some things, I just never seem to grasp.

I'm not talking about the really tricky 'thinky' sorts of things, like religion and politics and the importance women ascribe to long eyelashes. I don't grasp any of those things, either, but I figure I'm not really meant to. None of them has much to do with me, and that's the way I like it.

Sometimes, though, there's something I should be getting. I'll be told something very simple and straightforward -- usually by my wife -- and it'll slip through the holes in my brain like champagne through a sieve. I want to remember these things. Often, I need to remember these things. And -- if it was indeed my wife who told me -- I'm desperate to remember these things, lest she shake her head sadly at me (again) and say:

'You just don't listen, do you?'

Well.. yeah. I listen. I just don't remember, so much. If you're looking for a faulty organ in this circuit, the ear is definitely not the problem. Don't shoot the messenger when it's the recipient that's an idiot.

"I asked for everything I could possibly think of -- 'pork and beans', 'dog and pony', 'spit and polish, 'Cagney and Lacey', the works. None of it got me anywhere."

Segue now to the home inspection on the new place my wife and I are buying. We walked through with the inspector, and found the unit largely free of major problems, with one exception. When it came to the electrical system, he took issue with the age and type of much of the wiring used. He told us that this particular type of wiring was quite old -- not too surprising in a New England brownstone built near the turn of the last century -- and that many insurers refuse to cover homes with this type of wiring present.

The type of wiring in question? 'Knob and tube'.

Knob and tube. He must have said it fifteen times during the inspection. Knob and tube. Knob and tube. Knob. And tuuuuube.

Thirty seconds later, and it was gone from my head. All I retained was the 'and'; I knew it was 'something' and 'something' -- but what? And what? I asked my wife what he'd called it.

'Knob and tube'.

Whoosh. Gone again. What was it, honey?

'Knob and tube.'

*zzzzzttttt!* Lost it. Do you remember what kind of wiring he said?

'For the love of god, knob and tube.'

Nope. Still not getting it. One more time, please?

'*sigh* You just don't listen, do you?'

Indeed, I do. We've been over this, dear; don't call me 'deaf', when 'dumb' will do.

Sadly, the frazzled nerves and gentle barbs of my ever-patient wife were not the end of this particular ordeal. The discovery of this bit of electrical archaeology represented a serious kink in our home-buying plans -- and a possible hurdle, depending on the scope. My wife asked if I'd mind getting an estimate for the cost of the upgrades we'd need.

That meant calling an electrician to have a look around -- and that entailed describing the problem to someone with whom I haven't exchanged marriage vows, and who is therefore under no obligation 'to have and to hold, to honor and cherish, no matter how addled and jackassed he gets'.

(Yes, we wrote our own vows. She used hers to be sweet and romantical. I saw mine as an opportunity for contingency planning.

Sure, she wasn't happy at the time. But just wait until the dementia sets in, and then we'll see who's stuck with whom. That's some ironclad betrothing language there, kids.)

I found an electrician in the phone book and phoned in to set up an appointment.:

'Yes, I'd like someone to come out to get an estimate on having some old wiring replaced.'

'No problem, sir. What type of wiring is it?'

Damn. Ten seconds into the conversation, and I was already in a pickle. And my wife was at work, so I was on my own here. Maybe if I got close enough to the actual name, they'd just figure it out.

'Uh... rack and pinion?'

'Excuse me, sir? What kind?'

'Er, um, bread and butter, I think it's called. They're bread and butter wires.'

'Sir?'

'Tom and Jerry?'

'Sir, I'm not sure I can help you here.'

'Buddy, you don't know the half of it.'

I hung up and tried to regroup, racking my brain for the stupid name of the stupid type of stupid wiring I was supposed to be mentioning. Nothing. Lyrics to an old Marcy Playground song jumped into my head. Then nothing again. Then I remembered where I'd left my car keys back in college, when I thought I'd lost them and had to have a new set made. And finally, nothing.

Undaunted, I picked up the phone again and thumbed through the Yellow Pages. Things like this are why they list so many electricians in there in the first place, right?

I asked the next guy how much it would be to replace 'cloak and dagger' wiring. He said he didn't know, and to try calling the CIA. The guy after that agreed to look at my 'chutes and ladders', but I'm pretty sure he wasn't talking about wiring any more. One by one, I called up electrical specialists, and one by one, they shrugged at me over the phone, nonplussed. I asked for everything I could possibly think of -- 'pork and beans', 'dog and pony', 'spit and polish, 'Cagney and Lacey', the works. None of it got me anywhere.

I was on the last listing in the book -- must have been Zimmerman Electric or Zarathustra Contractors or something -- and was just about prepared to ask to 'have my S and M wiring torn out', when fortune finally shone on me.

'Yeah, I've got some old wiring I need looked at.'

'Old? You mean, like, knob and tube wiring? That old?'

Sweet merciful heaven. 'Knob and tube'. Finally. If I made a habit of making out with gruff-sounding electrical contractors, I'd have tongued the guy's ear through the receiver. Hallelujah to you, my sweet plumber-cracked angel.

'Yes, that's it exactly! Our inspector found--'

'Ah, sorry, we don't do knob and tube. Too much of a hassle. Maybe try somebody in the phone book.' *click*

So much for angels.

Still, now I had the info I needed. After an hour of making up ridiculous nonsense, now I could simply look up one of those other guys, call back, and tell them that I needed them to fix my...

Uh.

My wiring. That old kind, that's the... um. 'Something'. And 'something else'.

Shit.

Forget it. I'll just pretend I never tried to deal with it, and tell my wife later that she was supposed to call.

It's not like she'll remember the arrangement we had. She never listens, anyway.





Permalink | Comments (1)


, ,



Comments

Oh God - not knob and tube.

Run away. Run away right now.

Been there, done that, almost got divorced over it. (Sure, we can laugh now, a decade later - though usually I still just cringe.)

Post a comment

HomeAboutArchiveBestShopEmail © 2003-15 Charlie Hatton All Rights Reserved
Highlights
Me on Science:
  Secondhand SCIENCE


Me on ZuG (RIP):
  Zolton's FB Pranks
  Zolton Does Amazon


Me on Baseball:
  Bugs & Cranks


Me on Apartments:
  Author Page


Three Wee Tweets:
Favorite Posts:
30 Facts: Alton Brown
A Commute Dreary
A Hallmark Moment
Blue's Clues Explained
Eight Your 5-Hole?
El Classo de Espanol
Good News for Goofballs
Grammar, Charlie-Style
Grammar, Revisitated
How I Feel About Hippos
How I Feel About Pinatas
How I Feel About Pirates
Life Is Like...
Life Is Also Like...
Smartass 101
Twelve Simple Rules
Unreal Reality Shows
V-Day for Dummies
Wheel of Misfortune
Zolton, Interview Demon

Me, Elsewhere

Features
Standup Comedy Clips

Selected Clips:
  09/10/05: Com. Studio
  04/30/05: Goodfellaz
  04/09/05: Com. Studio
  01/28/05: Com. Studio
  12/11/04: Emerald Isle
  09/06/04: Connection

Boston Comedy Clubs

 My 100 Things Posts

Selected Things:
  #6: My Stitches
  #7: My Name
  #11: My Spelling Bee
  #35: My Spring Break
  #36: My Skydives
  #53: My Memory
  #55: My Quote
  #78: My Pencil
  #91: My Family
  #100: My Poor Knee

More Features:

List of Lists
33 Faces of Me
Cliche-O-Matic
Punchline Fever
Simpsons Quotes
Quantum Terminology

Favorites
Banterist
...Bleeding Obvious
By Ken Levine
Defective Yeti
DeJENNerate
Divorced Dad of Two
Gallivanting Monkey
Junk Drawer
Life... Weirder
Little. Red. Boat.
Mighty Geek
Mitchieville
PCPPP
Scaryduck
Scott's Tip of the Day
Something Authorly
TGNP
Unlikely Explanations

Archives
Full Archive

Category Archives:

(Stupid) Computers (70)
A Doofus Is Me (203)
Articles 'n' Zines (74)
Audience Participation (35)
Awkward Conversations (176)
Bits About Blogging (168)
Bitter Old Man Rants (50)
Blasts from My Past (78)
Cars 'n' Drivers (60)
Dog Drivel (78)
Eek!Cards (267)
Foodstuff Fluff (116)
Fun with Words! (71)
Googlicious! (27)
Grooming Gaffes (88)
Just Life (238)
Loopy Lists (33)
Making Fun of Jerks (59)
Marketing Weenies (66)
Married and a Moron (185)
Miscellaneous Nonsense (62)
Potty Talk / Yes, I'm a Pig (84)
Sleep, and Lack Thereof (34)
TV & Movies & Games, O My! (101)
Tales from the Stage (74)
Tasty Beverages (29)
The Happy Homeowner (81)
Vacations 'n' Holidays (134)
Weird for the Sake of Weird (71)
Whither the Weather (40)
Wicked Pissah Bahstan (49)
Wide World o' Sports (124)
Work, Work, Work (206)

Heroes
Alas Smith and Jones
Berkeley Breathed
Bill Hicks
Dave Barry
Dexter's Laboratory
Douglas Adams
Evening at the Improv
Fawlty Towers
George Alec Effinger
Grover
Jake Johannsen
Married... With Children
Monty Python
Nick Bakay
Peter King
Ren and Stimpy
Rob Neyer
Sluggy Freelance
The Simpsons
The State

Plugs, Shameless
Alltop, confirmation that I kick ass

TopOfBlogs

HumorSource

Blogging Fusion Blog Directory

bloglovin

Listed on BlogShares

Top Blogs

 

Feeds and More
Subscribe via FeedBurner

[Subscribe]

RDF
RSS 2.0
Atom
Credits
Site Hosting:
Solid Solutions

Powered by:
MovableType

Title Banner Photo:
Shirley Harshenin

Creative Commons License
  This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons License

Mint Installation

Performancing Metrics

Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

Valid XHTML 1.0

Valid CSS!

© 2003-15 Charlie Hatton
All Rights Reserved