Friday, July 01, 2005

Slippery Sidewalk

The winter of 88 was an especially cold and icy one. We were living in a townhouse . Our sidewalk for some reason collected all the drippings from the other houses. If the ice up the street started to melt, the water would run down and refreeze on our sidewalk. This particular winter we had a thick layer of ice covering our walk. Thick. And slippery. And not a surprise, although you wouldn't know that by this story. The first incident happened one night after work. I was making dinner when there was a frantic pounding at the door. There was my neighbor who was very pregnant with a wild look in her eye. "Your chimney is on fire!" I immediately spring into action. I start running around the house looking for fire. I run upstairs, nothing. I run down the basement, nothing. If the chimney were on fire wouldn't I smell something? Wouldn't there be smoke? Wouldn't there be ....a chimney? As I'm heading upstairs for the second time, this dawns on me. We don't have a chimney. I go to the door and tell her this. It takes us a minute to toss this revelation around. Hmmm....the next door neighbor! We must act fast. We head down the slippery sidewalk. I'm holding her and we are slipping all over the place. There were laws of physics shattered that night. How we ever got next door I'll never know. Did you ever see Christmas Vacation? We were definitely the neighborhood Griswald's. Our neighbors were the ultra contemporary career couple. Not alot of potluck dinners planned with them. So we get to the door and of course pound on it. He opens the door. We were received as warmly as if we had left a flaming bag of doggie doo on his porch. We yell simultaneously, an inch from his face "your chimney is on fire!!!!" He is kind of half amused but definitely, yes, definitely annoyed. I picture him saying this with a French accent because it sounds more condescending "I know, I just lit my fireplace...it's just embers....thanks." Slam. Ok than. Our work is done. My neighbor and I parted. Never to speak of it again. The second sidewalk story involves my husband. And his trenchcoat. Trenchcoat. You gotta have a certain persona to pull off a trenchcoat. I don't know...like.. a waist. We have both packed on some pounds since 88...back than we were thin. It doesn't matter how thin Jim is....no hips....no waist....for the love of God..no trenchcoats!!! Jim loved the trenchcoat. He would cinch the belt up real tight, grab his briefcase, and head off to work. On the world's slipperiest sidewalk. Everyday. Everyday the slippery sidewalk surprised Jim. For a week. 5 straight days Jim lost to the sidewalk. It was the highlight of my day. Normally I would be upstairs getting ready for work. A quick peck on the cheek and Jim would leave. I was concerned about the road being icy so I looked out to survey the situation. Jim went down. In the tightly cinched trenchcoat. The first day he did the stop, drop and roll. My personal favorite. He sort of curled up in a ball and rolled to the car. I was peeing my pants. That night I was like, why Jim? Why the rolling? Why? Apparently he had learned it in stuntman school. "So I wouldn't hurt myself." I told him I would rather be in a body cast than let anyone see me do that display again.
The next day, the same thing. Some days it was the rolling, some days he crawled on his hands and knees, some days he just lifted his feet and slid on his butt to the car. Everyday I laughed. Everyday I said, "why don't you walk on the grass?" It was his challenge. He would not be defeated . The ice kicked his butt. Thanks to some icemelt and the sun's appearance, the slippery sidewalk was gone by the weekend. Thanks to a well timed trip to Goodwill, the trenchcoat was also gone. The ice may have come back, but I made sure that coat didn't.

5 Comments:

At 12:17 AM, Blogger Abby Cannon said...

ha! I can picture Jim a little too well. Why is it that when someone falls it just makes your day? It is the funniest thing!

We all could probably sit around all night telling "falling on the ice" stories! It is so fun to talk about!

Nice post, Karen. It brings back lots of fond ice fallling memories. :)

 
At 9:24 PM, Blogger Briana Almengor said...

I was laughing so hard while my husband sat and watched a soccer game on TV. He said from the couch, "Are you reading Karen's?" He just knows I wouldn't be laughing that hard at nearly anything else. As always, good medicine! :)

 
At 6:10 PM, Blogger Libby said...

Karen, thanks for all of the kind words of advice AFTER we move into your old house?!! Men in Tightie whities..slippery sidewalks. But it seems I will be getting the most laughs while we live in this house, at least!

 
At 6:13 PM, Blogger Zoanna said...

It truly is a glorious laugh fest to watch other people fall. Sarah and Stephen love to tell about the winter of 2001, I think it was. Ben decided to buy a snowboard and was itching to use it at the first sign of a flake. So after an inch and a half of snow came down, he begged me to let him snowboard in the back yard. For some uncanny reason I gave in. (I was the flake.)

Know this about our backyard: at a 60 degree slope away from the house, it's a killer to mow but a thriller in the snow. I was in the house, oblivious to Ben's fun. A short time lapsed and suddenly Stephen ran to me saying with a little more than usual emotion, "Mom, Ben's laying on the ground at the bottom of the hill. He can't move and he's moaning and trying not to cry." As soon as I heard "can't move," I dashed out the back door, down our double flight of deck steps, across a slippery brick patio, and down to rescue my firstborn 30 feet below me. I don't remember putting shoes on first. Maybe I did. I had no coat on, but I was sweating. Trying to raise him up (at that time he was only 5 foot 10) I fell down. I got up. He had wrenched his knee and couldn't bear weight. I lifted him up. I fell again. I told him to lean on me and use the good leg to walk on. Not that you can get up that hill with two good legs in the snow. So the scene went. Meanwhile Sarah and Stephen are doubled over, too, but not from pain. Finally I got Ben into the house and then to the ER. It's only funny now.

 
At 11:14 PM, Blogger Laurie said...

I love the stop, drop, and roll approach. Wasn't that a little song and commercial on pbs back when captain chesapeake and his nerdy side-kick (what was her name again? Karen Husenhauer?) were hosting? Oh, never mind, I just remembered it was "stop, look, and listen before you cross the street..." If he stopped and looked he would have seen you ever so compassionately doubled over and heard you laughin'.

 

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