February 03 '07 |
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Volume 557 |
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Clean House
Helping Jason
It sounded like a simple enough request, but its one
Jason seldom makes. It came about because Jason was expecting a female-friend
to visit him last Saturday. He knew he would be at work all day, and while
his house (our guesthouse) was at best unkempt, he figured it would survive
his friends visit with a little help from Mom.
"If you can get my clothes washed," he stated to his mom, "I wont worry
about the rest of the house."
Jason is not much of a housekeeper, so I was a little apprehensive about
his having a visitor, especially a visitor he might rather impress than depress.
Knowing how I have difficulty walking into his house without stepping on
something hes left on the floor of his main living area, I could only
imagine the stack of dirty clothes in his bedroom, and that he considered
the dirty clothes more unsightly than all the rest left me with no little
angst.
Shortly after breakfast, Barbara, who already had her work cut-out in having
kept our three granddaughters Friday night and was expecting to have them
around for much of Saturday, made her way to Jasons and returned with
a load of towels and went back for more.
Our oldest granddaughter, Anna, volunteered to "straighten up" and vacuum
at Jasons. It was a daunting task that I would not have wished on anyone,
let alone my granddaughter, but it was likely the fruit of her labors that
inspired me to pitch in and help with the cleaning effort. She had cleared
a path from the front door to the kitchen, neatly stacking the clutter in
corners and against the walls. For me, the sight of dishes piled high in
the sink with glasses and tumblers littering the countertops, to say nothing
of electrical components from recent projects, over-the-counter medicines,
and several months worth of mail adding to the clutter, was all a bit
overwhelming.
I am told there is yet hope for Jason. Others site a family member or someone
they know, who became a neat-freak well into his or her adulthood, whose
cluttered environs once drove parents to despair. In my case, Im not
sure Ill live that long.
I made considerable headway with the dirty dishes and managed to pack most
of them into the dishwasher before discovering the dishwasher would not start.
It just sat there and hummed, no sounds of water running into it, just a
hum. I poked push-buttons on the panel, twisted the power knob round and
round, worked the latch on the door back and forth, all to no avail. It only
hummed the same monotone pitch as before.
I phoned Jason at work and asked him about the dishwasher. He responded that
it worked the last time he tired, but that it had on occasion failed to operate
immediately. He suggested I continue trying as he had, for it eventually
started working for him. I told Barbara about the dishwashers troubles
before leaving to make a couple of visits.
I have a visitation routine on Saturday mornings and am sometimes accompanied
by my wife, but last week, Barbara washed clothes as I made my morning rounds.
Since I had visited Miss Cubell Young the prior week, I stopped by her son
Derwoods appliance business to ask how she was doing. In the past year,
I dont think theres been a week Miss Cubell has missed seeing
one or more doctors. The folks at the wound center cant seem to get
her leg infections healed, and late last year she had to have a cancerous
growth on her neck removed. The surgery and subsequent radiation have left
her weak, but her will to live is as strong as ever. She insists on returning
to her work at the Laundromat as soon as she is able. Derwood shared that
Miss Cubell had suffered a setback, having noticed a second growth on her
neck near the one previously removed.
While at the appliance store, I asked Derwood about Jasons dishwasher.
There may be a type of washer, dryer, refrigerator, stove, or air conditioner
sold in North Mississippi whose inner works Derwood doesnt have intimate
knowledge of, but Ive not found it. When I told him the dishwasher
was a G.E., he diagnosed the problem, quickly.
"Its got a small motor, about a tenth horsepower," he replied. "If
the unit doesnt get used regularly, that little motor doesnt
have enough power to turn over. If you can get the kick-plate off and reach
up under there and turn the shaft a few turns, with the power off, of course,
Ill bet you itll start when you turn it on."
In checking Barbaras progress with the washing, upon my return, I learned
she had washed three loads of towels, dried one load, and had a second load
in the dryer. I helped her bring the rest of Jasons laundry to our
house, but only after asking her to wash some of his things in his washer.
His is a standard heavy-duty washer, but seldom uses it, probably because
the dryer isnt up to his requirements. The dryer is a small capacity,
110-volt appliance that ended up at our house after we moved Barbaras
mother from Walnut to Pontotoc.
I rounded up a few tools and went back to Jasons to tackle the dishwasher.
There, I noticed the dishwasher was in the drying cycle. However, when I
opened the door the bottom of the unit was full of water. I tried to force
it into the drain cycle before asking Barbara if she had turned it on while
I was gone. I had no luck, and after learning that Barbara had indeed gotten
the unit to start, I removed the kick-plate. The one tool I needed and
didnt have at hand was a flashlight. I could hear the hum as before
and now a click as though something was trying to engage. I flipped the latch
on the door a few more times, and the unit started in wash cycle. I decided
to let well enough alone and refastened the kick-plate, before returning
to the task I had delegated myself, which was cleaning up the kitchen area.
Most of the dirty dishes and silverware were Jasons, but some things
belonged at my house, so I gathered them up and took them home. Everything
on the countertops that wasnt flatware or dishware was boxed up for
Jason to sort through later. I was quite pleased that once the countertops
were washed down and the stainless sink polished, that the kitchen looked
as good as new.
By this time, Barbara was exasperated with her washing chores. She had washed
several loads of clothes and she was still knee deep in dirty laundry.
"It may be too late to take them to Youngs Laundry," I offered. "Miss
Frances doesnt stay open as late as Mrs. Young did, but its worth
a shot. Lets load up the ones that need drying and take them down there."
As I suspected, Miss Frances wanted to close early.
"Im hoping to get out of here by one oclock," she stated, turning
to check the time on the wall clock. "It wont take more than thirty
minutes to dry yours."
At most, we had forty-five minutes to go to the grocery store and get back
to the laundry before 1:00 p.m. I left a few extra quarters with Miss Frances
and told her Id reimburse her if she needed more to dry our clothes.
Somehow, we managed to grab forty dollars worth of groceries and get
back to the laundry before one oclock. Miss Frances had part of our
clothes folded, and we helped her finish the rest. One other customer continued
to wait on her dryer of clothes, but we left assured wed not detained
Miss Frances from her afternoon plans.
On our way home, Barbara wished for a commercial dryer that only takes
thirty-minutes to dry a pile of clothes while ours at home takes an hour
and a half. The last of Jasons laundry was not finished until nine-thirty
Saturday night, roughly thirteen hours from when the job was begun.
Barbara concluded that Jason simply has too many clothes and confronted him
that evening with, "Jason, you need to get rid of some of your clothes."
"Which ones should I get rid of?" he asked. "I wear all of them, but it takes
me about two months to go through them."
Three of us worked hard last weekend to make Jasons house presentable.
Yet, it was all for naught.
"Laurens not coming over tonight," Jason shared, "She changed her mind."
I might have cussed upon hearing the news, but it wouldnt have changed
the situation. Anyway, Lauren didnt see the house before our cleaning
efforts, so I doubt shed have appreciated it nearly so much as the
rest of us, even Jason.
"Thanks for cleaning up;" he told his mother, "It looks good!"
Electro Cops
Tupelo Wants Them
The city of Tupelo appears to be on the fast track to install surveillance
systems at many of its major intersections, following a favorable ruling
by Mississippis Attorney General. RRN does not view such a move to
be in the best interest of motorists.
Excerpts from a Daily Journal editorial 02/01/2007:
"The proposed system - manufactured, installed and maintained by American
Traffic Systems - has a proven record in other cities and offers Tupelo an
opportunity to increase traffic safety citywide, especially at the most dangerous
signaled intersections."
"Paying for the signals - The city has two choices, at least, for financing
the system without direct cost: Agree on a percentage payment of red light
fines to ATS, or negotiate a monthly fee paid from traffic citation revenue."
"We discount the "big brother" criticism of the system. Surveillance cameras
routinely watch people in malls, many retail stores, banks, airports, convenience
markets, courthouses, and public schools. Nothing sinister resides in motivation
to improve traffic safety."
RRNs response:
It is true that surveillance cameras monitor people in malls, retail stores,
etc., but that alone does not give local authorities the right to install
cameras at traffic signals for the alleged purpose of improved traffic safety.
As Americans we have already sold our rights to personal privacy to the gods
of technology, and while we may not yet find our every movement monitored
by "big brother," one may rightly conclude that surveillance today will only
make it easier for a "big brother" of tomorrow.
Americans continue to allow the erosion of freedom of speech, while appeasing
the police of the politically correct. It reasonably follows that personal
privacy will follow a similar path, perhaps a path from which weve
already reached the point of no return.
The fact that a third party stands to profit from traffic citations does
not equate to "sinister," and neither do increased revenues for local government
mean the motives of the of local authorities are "sinister." However, greed
may be a more suitable description, as might "the opportunity to make a quick
buck" using costly technology.
If the city of Tupelo is seriously concerned about traffic safety at its
intersections, authorities should first address the need to bring the duration
of the yellow light at all the citys traffic lights to standards suggested
by the state of Mississippi. An electronic policeman, like "big brother,"
is an idea whose time will have a stench about it whenever and where ever
it comes.
Bodock Beau Word
Of Caution
While rummaging through her attic, my friend Kathryn found an old shotgun.
Unsure about how to dispose of it, she called her
parents.
"Take it to the police station," her mother
suggested.
My friend was about to hang up when her mother added, "And
Kathryn?"
"Yes, Mom?"
"Call first."
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