Thursday, January 2, 2020
Stupidity drives intrepidity
Nice morning and a nice day. Temps above freezing and the sunshine feels warm. These things combine to slowly, oh so slowly, melt snow and ice. Which is good. There will be much more snow, ice, and wind to come in the next couple of months, so the snow and ice we have will be added to and will be with us until spring really gets sprung but good. That's the way it works, and that's just okay. And even if it wasn't okay, it would still be the way it works. Along with the snow and ice and cold there is also the persistent, chilling winter wind. In case I haven't mentioned it before. Just the way it is.
So I ran into town to go to the bank. I thought I'd demonstrate how the drive through works. As if it works differently here than anywhere else.
The pneumatical tube is fascinating to me.
But I chickened out on making a video record of the whole thing. Thought the FBI might have to come shoot me in the face for making an unauthorized bank video or something. I can be such a maroon. Buk-buk-buk-buk-bakak!
I really should video some small town Kimball things and share them here. And to do it right, or at least not completely wrong, I should make arrangements with the people and places I video. How hard can it be?
And now, Stupidity drives intrepidity. Or something like that.
As far as lizard-apes go, I think you can put the stupidity part down as a solid fact about the species. Also, I think, the fact that doing stupid stuff can be part of a learning process. If you don't die from the stupid of course.
Yesterday was a bit of a busy day and nothing at all like the way I had it planned out. Unanticipated stuff kept cropping up, which is simply par for the course. In my line of work I find that I have to be a bit nimble and ever ready to change plans, improvise, adapt, overcome. I also have to be ever ready to step back, take a look, recognize that I've once again done something stupid, and then figure out how to unfiretruck both myself and the feat of stupidity. As I think I've said here before, it can be vexing but it also provides a lot of opportunity to learn, grow, and hopefully get better over time rather than worse. Jury's still out and won't reconvene until after I'm safely planted, so I'll never know for sure. Not on the plane. Just have to suck it up and drive on and do my best.
The fun part is that just when I'm elbow deep in the guts of unfiretrucking a stupid mistake, other stuff usually intrudes. Sometimes I can keep multiple plates spinning, and sometimes I can even do that well. But other times I need to concentrate all my meager facilities on a newly arriving problem, and that's just the way it is.
So there I am, trying to solve an unanticipated mystery and develop a solution to the potential problem arising from the mystery. Clear?
Okay. What happened is that I noticed the big west doors of the shop were wide open. This was odd, for I hadn't opened them. They are big sliding doors which hang from overhead tracks and are latched with a simple locking bar. I was in the shop on December 31 and the doors were closed and latched. Yesterday afternoon they were wide open. Mom hadn't (and can't, really) opened them, and as far as I know, no one else had been given permission to be in the shop or open the doors. In fact no one other than Mom and I had even been present.
Except it seems that someone else was present. Nothing was missing, so that's good. Still, it's a rather unsolvable mystery. Furthermore, it now makes sense to lock the shop up. Which has never been done before. So I went looking for keys, found some, and tried them all. None fit the lock.
As I was playing with dozens of keys, I received an urgent text and had to leave, so I pulled the door closed and skedaddled.
The text was from Snow Girl, and she was having a rough day. As it turned out she just needed to vent and talk herself through a bit of problem solving. Which she's perfectly capable of doing on her own, because she came up with good, solid ideas without a bit of a hint from me. And I'm sure that's for the best, because there's no way I can solve any of her problems or even completely understand all the variables she is working with. All I can provide is an ear and encouragement, and that just seems like something I'm supposed to do. So I do.
So she vented and problem solved, then we fist-bumped and each of us got on with our days.
Back at the ranch I quickly realized that I'd neatly locked myself out of the shop. Firetruck!
I gave the problem some thought and decided to go in through a window. Which I did.
Still nothing missing. Mystery unsolved.
My tentative plan upon gaining entry was to remove the lock set, take it to town, and have it re-keyed. I knew it was pointless to go on searching for nonexistent keys.
Fortunately for me I ended up finding the keys to the door hanging on a nail just inside the door and cleverly hidden by hanging leashes and dog chains.
So. Mystery unsolved, problem made worse by stupidity solved. And since I can still wiggle through a window to unfiretruck myself, I must not be dead yet.
So Red and I went to check the south unit. Which was still present. Red had one question for me.
What are you gonna firetruck up next, lizard-ape?
Be well and enjoy the blessings of liberty.