Odds & Ends (and maybe some tidbits)

It's a busy time around here right now and I imagine it's going to get busier. See, it's getting close to Cranfest and if you've been reading this blog for the last year than you already know what a big deal it is. If you haven't, feel free to check out the archives below right for all the gory details.
I'm really starting to look forward to it this year as my folks hope to be here for it. I am really convinced they are going to love it; but then again, I've been wrong before... Nah, they're going to love it. I have eliminated a lot of my normal duties as it was just getting to be too much. (I'm already what I call a "Cranfest widower" because the kids and I will see less and less of Deanna the closer we get to the festival.) So, I'm hoping I to have some free time to spend with the folks while they are here.

The Festival is contagious. You find yourself "involved" with it before you know it. It has already claimed my Dad and he hasn't even been here for one yet. See, we were short a couple of parade judges. We needed someone to judge the automobiles. A short phone call later and my Dad was tagged for the job. What he doesn't know yet is that we haven't been able to find a judge for the tractors in the parade and he's going to get that duty as well if we can't find one. Thanks Dad!!!

I was supposed to play and sing for the music hall on the Friday and Saturday of the fest (as I did for the last two years) but I just can't. I'm not "gifted" in that area like some people. I can only do something like that if I have a truckload of practice and everything falls into place. What I mean by "everything" is my carpal tunnel, tendinitis and allergies not acting up. They are and I haven't been able to practice at all. I did try last night in desperation, to see if I could belt anything out but it was all squawks and I barely finished the first song I tried before my fingers started going numb on my left hand and my elbow started to hurt on my right. (sigh) Gettin' old is SUCH a pain. Literally.

Please don't misconstrue the previous two sentences as "whining". I am just explaining. I consider it a major blessing to have ever played at all; besides I'm a much better whiner than that! In fact, if I was as good a player and singer as I am a whiner I wouldn't have anything to whine about. Chew on that one for a while. By the way, Deanna's Aunt Gayle is in charge of the music hall and I haven't told her I can't play yet. I'm NOT looking forward to that. She doesn't take "no" easily and I HATE disappointing her. (grumble)

Tuesday I was overdosing on my own testosterone. Really. See, there were some trees that have been knocked down by the recent storms and they were in the way of where we put booths for Cranfest. My WIFE volunteered me to take care of the problem.
I drove my T R U C K up into the field were the trees were. Not a mamby pamby 1/4 ton truck. Not a Pampered street princess 1/2 ton truck, no sir, a full in your face beat up scarred and knarly 3/4 ton T R U C K. In fact, I daresay it's even more manly because it's only 2 wheel drive. Takes skill to keep the "positraction" rear end in line and a practiced foot on the accelerator (of the V 8 engine!) to keep the wheels spinning just enough to clear the muck from the tread but not so much as to dig a hole. (This is where you would insert a Tim Allen / Home improvement "Arrr Arrr Arrrgh!)
Oh no, we have more manliness in store. I was feeling very proud as I dragged my big heavy logging chain out from behind the bench seat. I was even more proud as I methodically un-cased the 18 inch chainsaw from it's case. Kind of like a "hit man" or sniper putting together his weapon with practiced "snicks" and "clicks". I grinned because even though it hasn't run in a couple of weeks I know that on the third pull "she" will start. She does.
Across the field there are some prisoners on work release painting a building, I give the trigger throttle a few squeezes just for them. I'm not looking at them because I don't want to be too obvious but I know, they know and I know they know that I know, you know?

I started with the two trees that were the biggest problems. There are actually five I have to deal with. First I debranch them. I have a "timber jack" in the truck. I like saying that. How many men can really say that? Of course I didn't need it at the time but still, I liked having it there as much as I like telling you I have it there. (Arrrgh Arrrgh) The trees had fallen on each other and on their branches in such a way that getting them cut small enough to drag took no time at all.
I Myself, was an efficient machine.
I remember thinking "Wow, it just doesn't get more "real man" than this. I was having a blast. Keep in mind that this is just a removal service. These were pine trees and I was not cutting them for fire wood. I just needed to cut them small enough to drag the pieces with my truck and logging chain to the end of the field and out of the way.

Two hours later I was still feeling like a "real Man" all right.
A Real, Very Beat up, Very Old Man.

I was done with two of the five trees and I myself was "done".

Done.

As in: put a fork in me because the meat on my bones is so tender I could feel what was left of my muscles sliding down into a puddle in my shoes. Shoes that I can never lose. Shoes that I could find by just sniffing the air and in so doing I would know I didn't really want to find them anyway.

I carefully put my chainsaw and loggers chain away. Carefully because I thought I might drop them and not be able to pick them up.

My truck has "Real Working Man" tires on it. Not big mudders, but working tires. Not very wide but Tall. Tall is a good thing and its a bad thing.

The Bad: You have to climb Up into the truck. It's not a monster truck and it's not "lifted" but it is still none-the-less a climb.

The Good. You get to "fall" out of it when you get to where you are going. This really is a good thing too. Remember, I also own a tiny little Festiva. Climbing up out of that at the end of a long day is tough. I often would spend five or ten minutes just sitting in my driveway trying to get the energy to climb out of it.

Anyway, I get home, "slide" out of my truck, carefully put my tools away and notice one of my rear tires is losing air. Slowly. As I look, I notice that the rear tires are weather-checked and cracking. I look at the front ones and can see there isn't much tread left there either. I'm not sure but I think the tires cost about 500 dollars a pair. But I might be able to find four for that price -if I'm lucky(!) .

I'm starting to sympathize with the tire that's slowly deflating.

I walk inside and collapse into the latest incarnation of the "Alien Chair" and grab "my" remote. Deanna calls from the kitchen: "Are you hungry?"

I grunt.

and then I can hear her fixing me a plate and I know it's going to be good.

It always is.

Always.

I think to myself: "Yes, it's good to be a 'Man' and it isn't the truck or the chainsaw that makes me feel that way..."

If you think you are a "real Man" and think that last line is drivel;
Well, I'm too Old, Tired and worn away to care.

You don't get much more "manly" than that.

Well, I'm going to go take my vitamins, wrap my elbow and hands and go to bed

Arrgh Arrgh! and Thank You Lord!

Will