When The Bloom Is On The Rose

I’m one that loves a practical joke…NOT the kind that embarrasses or hurts anyone. Just pure fun jokes that bring a laugh to even the most stoic person. There was a guy named Bill that worked with me whose practical jokes were not only unpredictable, but sometimes dangerous. He had a reputation for his antics.

I orchestrated my favorite of all time in the late 1970’s in the Forecast Office. First a little background.

We belong to a HMO for our health care. Regardless what you may hear about HMO’s, ours is one of the best. I visited the doctor one day for one thing or other, and went to the pharmacy to fill a prescription. The pharmacist informed me that “This is Family Planning Month” and they were giving out a box of 36 condoms to each family.

My wife had a hysterectomy and we really didn’t need to worry about birth control, but like a good little consumer, I took the condoms home. After all, in a rainstorm you could use them over the end of your gun barrel to water out. There would probably be a use for them in my shop. Who knows?

Well, those things sat around my shop for some time, and I finally thought it time to get rid of them. The problem was how to dispose of them appropriately.

I was lucky because I was one of those people who thought there’s was the best job in the whole world, and it really was. I worked a week of day shifts, a week of evening shifts and a week of mid-night shifts, the schedule would then repeat itself. The Forecast Office was in the Lake Union Building which was on the shore of Lake Union, in downtown Seattle. The Weather Service leased the entire top floor and the view was spectacular. The lease also included beautiful indoor plants through-out the office and some contracted people to maintained them.

My boss (called the Meteorologist in Charge, or MIC) was extra proud of th gorgeous plants in his office. One night while working the midnight shift, I took the box of condoms to work with me. During some slack time, I opened the box and taped 36 condoms (unopened or course) to his favorite plant and left a note on his desk saying “Congratulations!! Your Rubber Tree Plant is in Bloom!!”

When my shift was over, I gathered up my empty lunch dishes, jacket and whatever, and headed for the door. I passed the MIC’s office and it was easy to overhear him talking to Bill, telling him in rather strong language “This is not funny. There’s women who work here and if even one of them complained we’d both be in trouble.”

As the door closed behind me, I could hear Bill saying “But I didn’t do it!.”

The next day I told the boss that I was the culprit, but he just would believe me. He retired a few years later, and even then he still blamed Bill for the blooms on his precious plant.

Build a Better Lawn Mower

I was going to college and we didn’t have any money to spare. So when our gas lawn mower burned up, (another story) we found a replacement at Good Will, only that one was a push mower.

You have to understand at time we had three kids, I went to school full time, worked for the University (Work-Study) during the day, worked at night, and drove truck on weekends, so such mundane tasks as lawn mowing were at the bottom of my list. Besides, I was (still am) allergic to fresh cut grass and the thought of using a push mower didn’t add to my enthusiasm. So now you can understand why the grass was somewhere near 8 or 10 inches high.

We lived in a trailer park and had a narrow, long lawn. I finally worked up the courage to try the hand-pushed mower. It didn’t take long to realize that this was more than a simple job. I had to back up the mower, then shove it forward as fast as I could, only to cut a few inches before the momentum was lost, then the process would have to be repeated. This was real WORK, and it was a HOT day! It took a little while to mow the first 6 feet or so, along the edge – right by my bike.

Now my bike was a 100cc Yamaha dirt bike that I built out of three other trashed bikes, for almost no money. It was a real mover. I could do a “wheelie” through the first two gears – not bad for a 100cc. I was very proud of that bike.

So here I was pushing a stupid mower and that bike was just sat there doing nothing. That’s when I got one of my brilliant ideas. I wired a wooden box to the lawn mower and filled it with bricks. That would give it the traction it would need. Then all that was necessary was to tie the mower to the bike. So far, so good. The mower had to be guided when pulled so I called my wife out to do the honors. She is good natured and will try almost anything once, and she agreed.

I started off slow and the mower actually worked – well sort of. It left some tufts of grass but they could be cut later with much less effort. If you have ever ridden a bike, you know it needs a little speed to have better control. So I gave it more gas. The bike didn’t even grunt, I think it probably could have pulled a cement truck. So we sped down the length of the lawn.

My wife was running behind the mower, guiding it as grass flew up, covering her from the waist down. She understood (sort of) and we turned around and made another run at it.

After two or three runs, it all came to a stop when she looked up and saw our neighbor out by the fence with his movie camera, laughing and filming the whole procedure. She threw down the mower handle and went into the house. No amount of coaxing would get her to come back out, and for some reason the neighbor with the camera wouldn’t lend a hand either.

I finished the job the hard way – all by myself

In Touch With An Old Friend

It was this last August that I went to meet Teddy Hodges, an old friend from high school. He was a year older and wasn’t my best friend but he only lived a mile or so away, so we were neighbors. We rode the same school bus and flirted with the same girls – he was more successful at it than I.

I joined the Navy less than a week after we graduated high school. He laughed and said I was crazy. Some time later, he was drafted.

The traveling Viet Nam Memorial, often called “The Wall” came to town and was on display for all to see. I went down and we  met again after almost 45 years. I looked him up, and with some sadness and lots of respect – I reached out and touched his name on "The Wall."

This shows the entire Wall.

A little bit closer.

 Close enough to read his name.

Have a good rest old friend, you certainly earned it.