June 23, 2009
Sacred Scroll
I know for a fact that grown men whimper. I don’t remember the first time I ever heard Jeff whimper, but I think it probably had something to do with some expensive Dale Earnhardt die-cast replicated racecar. I do remember one of the last times I heard it, though.
Kmart was closing down locations and somehow we found ourselves in Monroe, and at a nearly done-in store. The place was a disaster, and worse was watching people take things off shelves and drop them on the floor after looking at them. I was just about to drag him from the madhouse scene when we turned down an aisle with – gasp – tools!
“Oooooo,” he murmured, eyes wide. I don’t know how he saw it but stacked behind some really traumatized boxes was a brand new scroll saw with its own folding workbench. He dragged it out and inspected it very carefully for any signs that it might have been opened before. They he cautiously looked at the ”before and after” mark-down pricelist taped to the display.
“Oooooo,” he gasped, viewing the sign with wider eyes still. I could see dreamy dollar signs reflecting in his glazed over look. “How much?” I asked. “It was $215.00,” he marveled. “How much?” I asked. “It was already marked down once to $115.00,” he cooed.
“Jeff!” I snapped my fingers hoping to bring him back, but he was clearly already swirling into the “I don’t think I can live without this piece of equipment” abyss. “How much,” I asked again.
“$62.50,” he tentatively smiled as he loving patted the box. “I don’t know Jeff,” I hedged. “What would you use it for?” “Lots of things,” he insisted. “I just don’t think we can afford that right now, honey,” I said trying to let him down easy, and knowing he would probably bow to my logic.
That’s when I heard it. The whimper. I was so surprised I stopped right in my tracks and turned to stare at him. The whimper came with a face I had never seen before. Eyes still foggy with scroll-lust, bottom lip tucked in under his teeth, one hand still touching the sacred saw, he barely shuffled away from the display. Then he whimpered again.
“Ok,” I said. “Throw it in the cart. “And quit smiling like that,” I grumbled. “You’re going to split your face wide open, and I don’t want to spend another night in the Emergency Room with you!”
So, that’s how the scroll saw came to live in the computer room closet. Jeff read the manual, but that’s as far as he got. His legs were giving out and we had other things to concentrate on. And that’s how the scroll saw ended up in my recent “moving” sale. It didn’t make it out of the closet until the second day of the sale because I had imagined it would be harder to retrieve than it turned out to be. I marked it at $50.00 thinking it was a fair price. I no longer had the box or the manual, but maybe someone would know what to do with it anyway.
A little after 3:00 pm on the last day, a young couple came in. “Hmmm,” the husband commented. “Honey, look at this!” “What is it?” she asked. “A scroll saw, just like the one I rented last week for $85.00. I could buy this one and we’d never have to rent one again.” “I just don’t think we can afford that right now, honey,” she replied and moved on to look at other items. The fellow just stood there mesmerized.
Knowing I’d never use it and not wanting to struggle it back into the closet, I whispered to my cohort, “He can have it for $35.00.” Because she’s the outgoing one who has no problem dickering with yard sale customers, she announced my offer loudly from her perch near the cashbox, adding the key phrase, “It’s never been used!”
That’s when I heard it. The whimper. I laughed out loud, and then whispered to my friend, “That’s the same exact sound Jeff made when we bought that thing!” He looked at his wife beseechingly, and she slowly nodded her approval. As he stood there holding the saw, he told us that he and his wife were renovating their home. “Thank you so much. Thank you so much,” he kept repeating.
“Never been used,” my friend repeated as he headed out the door. “Her husband passed,” she called after him, stopping him on the threshold of exiting. I really thought he was going to cry as he turned to stare at me. “It will get put to good use,” he said in a quivering voice. “I promise it will get used.”
So what was that scroll saw really worth: $215.00, $115.00, $62.50, $50.00 or $35.00?
Making Jeff happy, which made me happy, which made that family happy: sacredly priceless.
I may have lost a little money on that deal, but I have blessedly gained another true insight into the non-coincidences of GOD’s careful plans.
Posted by jaselin at 07:56 PM | Comments (0)
March 10, 2009
True Love & Peeps
My husband was a man who would not even slightly hesitate to insert his entire arm into a cow’s uterus.
So, how a cute little squishy marshmallow chick could cause him to cringe, shake and gag was always beyond me.
However, as true love often does, he willingly made small sacrifices for me. One of the sweetest involved seeking out Peeps. Clandestinely poking holes in their cellophane habitats, he would hide the remarkable treats somewhere I was sure never to look. You know that cabinet that they put over the stove that only tall giant sized people ever use to store things?
He went to all this trouble for two very good reasons.
The first was so that the adorable candy creatures would be appropriately ever-so-slightly crunchy-stale when he ceremoniously presented them to me on whatever holiday it was we were celebrating.
And the second, was for the kiss he knew he would get after I finished squealing in delight.
Posted by jaselin at 12:42 PM | Comments (0)
June 04, 2008
Love and Duct Tape
Tecumseh, Michigan, Fall 2005
A lot of times, it’s only the laughter that holds me together; memories that jump up out of nowhere, or ones that end up being obscurely related to something else.
Jeff and I had bravely, and a bit brashly, opened The Michigan Hot Sauce Club. The 10’ x 10’ space in the Selder’s Mall was, well, very small. But, the price was right. All we really needed to squeeze in there were some shelves and a few hundred bottles of hot sauce. The space was just big enough for one display case. One red chair behind the display became the “office." Six white metal storage shelves were plenty. We spent a day painting, and then stamping the new white walls with red and black swirls. I found a piece of fabric that looked like a traditional red/white/black checkered cloth, except there were chili peppers in the squares! Yup, we had a theme going: red, black, and white. We were cute, color coordinated, and open for business.
That’s when I made “the big mistake". I asked Jeff to please organize all the wires from the phone, register, clocks, etc. They were jumbled on the floor, and ugly besides. Bless his heart, he said he didn’t understand why that irked me so, but promised that he’d handle it right away. I stopped by the store that night on my way home from work, and true to his word he had handled it. My incredibly inventive, thrifty un-handyman had used bright teal-colored duct tape to bind all the wires together, in one bundle. Then, he’d taped the whole teal bundle around the perimeter of our newly painted white walls!
I was appalled and amused. There wasn’t going to be an easy way to remedy that situation. So, I just let it be. It was beautiful evidence that my husband loved me, tried to please me with what he had on hand, and it reflected his colorful personality exactly. It was hard getting all those wires un-duct-taped when I closed the store.
In my usual over-preparedness, I took what was left of that roll of teal tape with me on my first Get In The Car mission trip to New Orleans. I used almost all of it taping up boxes of our homeowner’s belongings. I brought the nearly empty roll back with me, too. It’s been sitting on Jeff’s dresser since October 2007. It’ll probably be sitting there for a while still.
jak
Posted by jaselin at 07:53 AM | Comments (0)
May 19, 2008
Very Remote Control
Last week I was clearing out old email from Jeff's computer, and found a hilarious email exchange between us.
Jeff used to fall asleep watching TV. Actually, he fell asleep a lot of places, but for now let's just stick with "watching TV."
The thing is he'd fall asleep with the remote in his hand, which sometimes caused the program I was watching to suddenly be gone, or it might end up being forwarded/rewound if we happened to be watching a recorded DVR program. I'd wake him up and ask for the remote. My request was always denied with "It's ok. I'm awake now!"
After a few closely spaced incidences one night, I demanded the remote. He was reluctant to give it up, as usual. Finally, he did, realizing that if I missed any single second of Reuben Studdard on American Idol, I was going to be royally annoyed - for a royally long time.
Here’s that email thread:
Me: Thank you for giving me the remote last night… I know it was traumatic for you, but you handled the separation like a pro! Kisses.
Jeff: Well you are soooo welcome. But I was having the shakes and passed out several times this morning. I called the Dr. right away and she told me I had Post-Traumatic Remote Control Separation Syndrome. She told [me] to take two aspirins and call the PTRCSS Society. So I called them and they said they would be happy to help me out with my problem for a small donation of 500 dollars, and with that I called the credit union to make an electronic funds transfer of 600 to the fund for PTRCSS Society. When I finished that I called the PTRCSS Society again and they said they would come over tonight and assist me in this non-life-threatening but very bothersome disease. They have found out it is transferred thru a gene from the mother that is dormant in females but is very active in males. I have found this to be interesting and am learning quite a bit. My goal for the PTRCSS Society is to start a telethon within two years and have as much success as Jerry Lewis and Muscular Dystrophy. May I add that Jerry Lewis is also a sufferer of PTRCSS and that he donates a large sum to the PTRCSS Society every year? He tries to keep it very low key, as he is actually a very private person. Oh, and did I tell you that Jerry called me personally and told me how it felt to suffer from PTRCSS? He really is [as] nice on the phone as he is on TV. And he sang to me… it was sung to the tune of “You'll Never Walk Alone." He changed the words to “You'll Never Click Alone.? Well that’s about all the excitement I can handle for one day. Hope things quiet down a bit around here. I love youuuuuuuu.
Posted by jaselin at 03:16 PM | Comments (0)
April 29, 2008
The Electric Argument
A few years ago, I read an online article about ways to reduce electricity consumption. I was fascinated to learn that even appliances in the off mode could still be sucking up electricity. When I passed this information on to my husband, he guffawed. “Absolutely not true!"
I thought it was worth checking out, so I secretly unplugged some of our less used appliances. Must not have been so secretly, because the next day, all were mysteriously plugged back in. I unplugged them again, only to discover the phantom re-plugger had been ‘round the house, again.
A few months later, watching an episode of the TV show “Til Death," I laughed to see the very same issue addressed. Joy, of course, believed the electricity saving advice, and Eddie thought it was a farce. And, so began the plugging and unplugging.
It’s weird to see your life on TV. It’s also highly amusing.
Jeff and I never did resolve the electric argument. With all the unplugging and re-plugging, we never were able to prove a savings or not, one way or the other. Then, this month’s Reader’s Digest shows up, and guess what? The April 2008 edition, page 17, has a lovely little blurb about… Vampire Electricity.
If nothing else, at least unplugging all of those dormant appliances reduces the chances of a house fire… Who me, worry?
jak
Posted by jaselin at 07:56 PM | Comments (0)