Well, the Holidaze are upon us once again, and this year I am confused by…
… the football announcer who said that a team “narrowly averted tragedy” when they recovered their own fumble. Really? A tragedy? Come on dude, it’s just football. A real tragedy is running out of chips before halftime…
…the other football announcer who observed that if a team “runs successful plays they will have success on offense.” Thank-you, Captain Obvious. I’m surprised you’re in the broadcast booth instead of on the sidelines with that keen insight…
… the young woman I saw wearing a down vest with a fur-lined hood. It just seems to me that if it’s cold enough to need a fur-lined hood, it is cold enough to wear a jacket with sleeves…
… television, apparently. My Dad enjoyed watching Bonanza reruns and we spent a couple of afternoons earlier this year doing just that. Recently, while home alone I came across another episode and decided to watch. It seems the bad guy was planning to frame Hoss for a murder by knocking out Hoss, shooting the victim, planting the gun next to Hoss, and then leaving the scene. As I was watching this unfold I was thinking “well that will never work. Once Grissom and Katherine and the other CSI folks get there they’ll dust the gun for finger prints and check ol’ Hoss for gun-shot residue and he’ll be exonerated…” Yikes…
This month’s DUMBASS (Designating Underachievement in Marketing By Advertisers Selling Stuff) Award goes to the Ford Motor Company for their commercial in which a young man is extolling the virtues of the keyless entry system on his new Ford. He especially likes it when he’s wearing tight jeans because there is no bulge from his keys. Apparently Ford is targeting the lucrative “Does This Car Make Me Look Fat?” demographic…
Imagine a well written transition paragraph right here…
Mrs. R decided recently that it was time to replace our worn out Xmas tree. It seemed like a good idea, the old one barely made it through last year. (This is the part of the story where it’s important to note that Mrs. R likes to think big during the Holidaze, I mean really big…)
We had been looking for a couple weeks and began to realize that the inventory of artificial trees was beginning to shrink in our corner of the ‘burbs. We checked a couple more places but weren’t satisfied and we finally ended up at one of the big-box home improvement stores (the blue one, for those of you keeping score at home…) And there it was – the largest pre-lit artificial tree in the western United States – checking in at 12-feet tall and 3-million pounds.
Mrs. R’s eyes lit up instantly when she saw it, and I think I may have heard the Hallelujah Chorus being sung softly in the background. I knew then that we were gonna take that bad boy home, in spite of my objections about:
Can we get it in the car?
Can we get it in the house?
Can we assemble it?
Will there be any money left for gifts?
It turns out that the only 12-foot tall, 3-million pound tree left in the store was the floor display model. This is where Mrs. R began her “no !#$%%**! way am I going to pay full **@#$!! price for the !@#**^* floor display” negotiating technique. It’s subtle, but effective…
Anyway, the big-box gave us a discount, disassembled the tree, helped us load it into our car, and merrily sent us on our way. One of the more interesting things about floor display models is that they don’t come with directions. And while that may be okay if you bring home a new recliner; it’s not so good if you bring home a giant tree with 14 unmarked parts and a bewildering array of wires, plugs, and other unidentifiable electrical things.
Realizing we may be in for a challenging time, I quickly designed a complex series of hoists and pulleys, rented some scaffolding, and applied for a building permit. I am a trained professional after all.
Mrs. R thought it would be fun if we tackled the tree assembly by using a Mission Impossible style approach. We’ve had success in the past using a similar tactic:
Suburban Rogue - Health Food
Since Mrs. R is somewhat afraid of heights, I agreed to be suspended from the pulley and assemble the tree while hanging upside-down, ala Tom Cruise, while Mrs. R was “on belay.” So, I got hooked up, strapped in and was ready to descend into tree assembly when, as I was stepping off of the upper stair landing, I remembered that I weigh twice as much as Mrs. R. I distinctly remember waving to her as we passed while she sped toward the ceiling and I was plummeting toward the living room floor.
We managed to get untangled, get the tree assembled, and even get the lights to work. I would, however, like to apologize for the power brown-out some of you may have experienced on Saturday…
Merry Christmas!
