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Publication Date 2-18-10 Sometimes, you don't want to know. And sometimes, you can embark on a course of events towards a goal that makes perfect sense, and still not end up anywhere near where you wanted to go. I heard this story last week. It seems there was this guy, who shall remain nameless because he has suffered enough, who just wanted to get a good night's sleep. The story came about from a larger conversation after someone asked me to explain the three inch long scar on my right hand. It's a long explanation, and one we don't need to go into right now, but it led to other folks telling me about the dumb things they've done over the years, which actually made me feel a little better. And then came this story… Once upon a time there was a hard working dairy farmer who just wanted to get a good night's sleep. It was spring, a time for sleeping with the windows open and relishing the fresh scents and sounds of the changing season. That was part of the problem. It was springtime and in springtime a young cat's mind turns to thoughts of love. Well, not love, exactly, but you know what I mean. Our hero was trying to get a night's sleep, a worthwhile goal, but a tomcat a few feet outside his window was singing love songs to the night air. Tomcats have a lot of stamina in the springtime, and the serenade went on for quite a while. Our guy put up with it for a long time, but finally gave up and leaped out of bed looking for something to throw. His eye, and his hand, fell on a shoe. Classic choice. You have to respect that. He leaned out the window, cocked his arm, and didn't see his target. Directly below him was his garage, blocking his view of the caterwauling cat. He climbed out the window onto the roof and took a few steps toward the far end. Here's the part where several other choices would have changed this story considerably: • He could have lofted the shoe like a mortar shell and tried to scare the cat away. • He could have walked downstairs and shooed the cat away from ground level. • He could have propped the window open with a stick. • Most importantly, he could have put some clothes on. - Yeah, that's right. He was on the roof of his garage, naked, except for a shoe in his hand. He tiptoed to the edge, wound up and let fly. The story doesn't tell us whether he hit the cat or not, but he must have made a serious effort, because the vibration of his windup was enough to make his bedroom window slam shut. You know those spring loaded catches on old windows that lock them in place? Sometimes they work, sometimes they don't. This one didn't work when it was open, but did when it was closed. He thought about jumping off, but there were some bushes below that looked mighty prickly. Actually, it wouldn't take much in terms of prickly to seem too prickly. Even hollyhocks could be a significant deterrent to naked roof jumping. He thought about breaking the window, but he'd thrown his shoe, which was the only window-breaking implement he had with him, and broken glass is even less friendly to naked flesh than prickly bushes. He did what he had to do. He sat huddled on the roof until daylight, waiting for the bulk truck to pick up the milk from the previous day's milking. I don't know at what point in the visit the driver glanced toward the house, only to see a naked farmer crouched on a garage roof. I'm guessing he had to look twice. Copyright 2010 Brent Olson Brent Olson |
