Christmas in July

The call came in as a reported fire hazard, Christmas lights presenting a hazard. Knd of an unusual call for the middle of summer I thought to myself as we drove the short distance to the RP's location. We parked in front of the RP's house and walked up to the door.

We were met on the porch by a lady in her fifties. "Did you call" I asked her.

"Yes I did" she replied. "I thought that I told 911 not to make contact with me"

Oops. I didn't bother to read the dot matrix print-out that we used to get, you know, before MDC days. My bad.

"I'm sorry, my fault" I told her "How can I help you?"

She pointed across the street toward a large fir tree. In the waning light, I could see a long string of Christmas lights draped over the branches. Inside, I was glad it was getting dark - I kind of wanted to see the lights come on. Kind of like that first Friday night after Thanksgiving, when the early birds turn their lights on for the first time.

"My neighbor still turns on his Christmas lights. I think it's a fire hazard. I'm afraid he's going to burn the tree down and take my house with it."

I pondered her statement for a few seconds, trying to determine if her complaint was legitimate and if so, what could I do about it. I decided that I needed more information.

"How long have they had them up there?" I asked the RP.

"Since around last Christmas" she told us "he turns them on almost every night."

I did the math and figured that they were likely in pretty decent shape. Even if they weren't, I really didn't have inspection authority to enter onto his property, ladder his tree and look at his lights.

"Ma'am, I'll go over and talk to him and maybe take a look at those lights"

"Just make him take them down, they're an eyesore" she replied. "Talk to him about his cars parked in the street too"

Just as the sun burns off an early morning fog, suddenly, the picture began to clear. Perhaps not everything is what it seems.

We walked across the street and met the neighbor who by now, had stepped out into the yard. I noted several skateboards and bikes lying in the dirt front yard.

"How ya doin'?" I ask him. "One of your neighbors is a little concerned about the condition of your Christmas lights"

He turned on the lights and we both looked up into the tree. The wire I could see still retained the green color, the bulbs though faded somewhat, didn't seem to have much paint chipped off them.

"How old are these lights?" I ask.

"I bought 'em before last Christmas. They're still in pretty good shape" He replied. "I can't believe she called you guys" he muttered "She always complains about everything. My boat, my kids, my cars, my lawn she always calls me to complain."

Then he adds "she bitched me off after Christmas about not taking my lights down quick enough so I decided not to take them down at all. I know it pisses her off, I just didn't think that she would call you guys".

I was being used. Like a dirty bomb in a crowded market, I was being used to spread toxicity around the neighborhood.

A part of me understood her issue, this house was kind of an eyesore. I just didn't feel that my services were the right instrument for affecting a change.

I cautioned him to keep an eye on the lights, unplug them when he went to bed and when he left. Then I complimented him on how beautiful they were and left his house to walk over to the RP's.

I spoke with RP and told her that the lights were being used as they were designed to be used and that they appeared to be in good shape. I also had to tell her that it was not against the municipal code to operate Christmas lights in July.

She didn't seem like she was that unhappy with my actions, although I am sure she was still frustrated with her neighbor. I had the engineer slow down as we pulled away, I wanted a last look at the fir tree, shining brightly in the summer evening sky.

Thanks for reading,

Schmoe

The Fall

I have been on hundreds of "assist a fall victim" over the years. Most often, you arrive, find your customer, assess the situation and help them to their chair or bed. I always double check to make sure that there is no injury and that that there is someone there to care for the customer.

Sometimes, your customer is in major denial and needs to be transported. Every once in a while, (how do I want to say this) you take them after much convincing or determining that they have an altered level of consciousness. I mean if they were not altered, they wouldn't want to stay in that filth encrusted bed, right?

Last night after returning home from our trip, we received a call from my brother in law. He was at my father in law's house after being called there by the Saint's father. Apparently, my father in law had fallen about five PM and was unable to get himself up. He tried for an hour or so, then spent the next couple of hours crawling into the front room where he could get to a phone and call my brother in law.

My brother in law drove over and helped him get to a chair, where he could sit on the floor and lean against it. I was called to help lift him into the chair.

I get over there and find the Saint's dad alert and oriented, complaining if minor pain to his foot, elbow and hand. He is missing some skin from those areas, his "old guy skin" unable to take the trauma of crawling very well. He denies neck or back pain, LOC or even hitting his head. He insists that he is OK, I feel pretty comfortable with his story of leaning over to get some ice out of his bottom freezer and losing his balance. He also says that he has some minor pain to his ribs as a result of the fall. The pain does not increase upon inhalation, no crepitice is observed nor does a healthy cough seem to produce more pain.

The Saint's brother and I lift him easily into his chair. The brother in law starts to clean his wounds, I get some bandages ready.

The Saint's dad is a pretty tough old bastard. He was pretty ornerous as a youngster, even as a middle aged man. He can still piss the Saint off pretty good, that trait has kept some of the heat off of me. He grew up on a farm in Iowa and joined the Marines to get off of the farm. He got out of the service and went to work as a heavy equipment operator until retiring 15 or so years ago. He worked hard and partied hard, the latter causing some problems for a while.

Three or four years ago, they found a spot on his lung and opened him up. Due to the location and size of the tumor, the could not remove it or the lung. They sewed him up and told him that they could buy some time with chemo and radiation.

The years since his diagnosis have been pretty good for him, all things considered. His ornerousity has served him well in this regard. He still lives alone and is supported by his family and hospice. He does not want to move and does not want to hire someone to help care for him. This event may change his mind.

I could tell as we assisted him to his room, helped undress him and help into bed, that he was shaken by this. Hopefully, he will now listen to us and get one of those "help me" pendants that you see on TV. I could also tell that his ribs were hurting him more than he was letting on.

We determined that he was unable to stay by himself last night. That was a no-brainer. I hung out while my brother in law went back to his place to get a few things. I chatted with him while his son was gone, he lamented how he never thought he would end up in such a state.

I think that he will recover from this latest episode, although not without some modifications to his lifestyle. Time will tell on that. Regardless, one of these times is likely to be catastrophic event for him and for us. I hope we are all up to the task.

Thanks for reading,

Schmoe

Get away

The Saint That I Am Married To started a new job in October of last year. She works in the criminal justice system (on the good guy side) and has been on probation for the past year. As a result, she has not been able to take any vacation time or any extra days off during for the last year. Her job also requires her to handle things occasionally on her off days, taking and making phone calls etc. She missed the Nebraska Disasta, our Sierra pilgrimage and a few other things.

As her year is almost up and it looks like her employer is happy with her performance, we decided to saw the ankle bracelet off and get away for a few days. I must say, it was overdue.

It is not without some anxiety however. Two teen-aged kids(17 and 18) and three dependent wiener dogs left unsupervised at home might be considered a high risk situation. Sometimes you just gotta live on the edge.

We decided to head south and start by driving through the San Jacinto Mountains.

A tranquil morning at Lake Fulmor

A view of the mountains, with a little fall color mixed in. Not many deciduous trees up here!

If you stay on the highway long enough, you will start to descend into the Palm Desert / Palm springs area of  southern California. The highway is called the Palms to Pines highway and is worth the drive if you get the chance. The next few photos were taken in the transition between pines and palms.

 I don't remember what these are called, but they are really tough on wiener dogs. We spent the better part of two hours picking spines out of Molly's lip one night several years ago. Between the spines and the teeth, no one had a good time with that one.

Cauhilla Canyon

Schmoe - a self portrait

The Saint I Am Married To, walking like an Egyptian.

 

Thanks Joker, you shithead, for driving all of the way up here and sharing your thug culture with us. Is there a hispanic gang that doesn't have a member named Joker? Or is Joker just omnipresent? 

A vista of the Palms to Pines Highway winding down to Palm desert. A great drive to be sure.

I'm not gloating, really I'm not. This was taken on our hotel room balcony with my phone at 07:30 on Sunday. Seventy something degrees. After seeing the Angels on TV freezing in New York and hearing about the chilly temps in Philadelphia, I couldn't resist. Sorry about the feet, I was too lazy to move them.

A great weekend away,  a long drive home and back to reality. We are going to try this again the spring, maybe to San Diego or San Fransisco. I hope your weekend was as good as mine. Except for you Joker, I hope got caned.

Thanks for reading,

Schmoe