Sunday, September 26, 2010

Attention please

I have the attention span of a gnat.  It used to be that I'd finish the page then devote my attention to the distraction.  As I got older, it was finish the paragraph, then then sentence.  Now, I've actually caught myself when writing stopping in the middle of a letter.  I like bright, shiny objects.

There have been many times where I've forgotten about something that was "in process." Usually this results in turning off a smoke alarm and throwing out a pan.  But a couple of nights ago, the fire department was involved.

It's not what you think, though.  Before I went out running, I decided to drain the boiler.  As I was refilling it to the proper level, which takes all of 30 seconds or so, I figured I'd be efficient with my time and "organize" (get out of the way) some of the voluminous [insert word of choice] that my wife had piled into the room.  Getting that fencing to the side took maybe 20 seconds, but it was enough to make me forget that I hadn't shut the intake valve.  So off I went to run.

When I returned about 30 or 40 minutes later I was greeted by a really unhappy wife.  Now this by itself isn't particularly unusual, and in such situations it's a lot like a take-off on a Gary Larson cartoon, i.e., "What husbands hear," which of course is not much of anything.  However, in this instance the words "flood" and "911" did manage to burrow into my skull.  Immediately I realized what I'd done  and slogged through a bit of water to shut off the valve.  Though I've shown my wife the mysteries of the red and yellow valves several times, they remain mysteries to her, but I certainly cannot blame her for not knowing what to do.  It was obviously all my fault.  Calling the fire department for perhaps an inch of water within a 15 foot radius may be another matter.

Anyway, the firetrucks arrived before we could call and say "Nevermind."  I sheepishly explained my stupidity, that the water wasn't bad and I could take care of it, and apologized profusely.  I hope I won't be billed for wasting taxpayer money.

You'd think that other than the merciless and incessant criticism that I'd be  treated to for the foreseeable future, and a few late night hours of cleanup, that this would be the end of it, other than an insipid blog entry.  But wait, there's more.

After I cleaned up the mess, all I had left to do was empty the excess water out of the boiler and fire it up.  Only it took what seemed a long time to empty enough water out to get to the proper level in the gauge, and then the boiler did not start. I couldn't imagine what could have happened, as these things are built for just such stupidity, but figured maybe all the water spouting and dripping had shorted the ignition mechanism.  In truth, I had no idea why it wouldn't fire, but knew it was going to cost more money and criticism.

The boiler guy came over the next night at 10 p.m. (I'm sure rates are discounted at that time) only to take out a screw driver, remove a valve handle and stem (at least he used a wrench for that), and after a total of about a minute tell me that the gauge handle was stuck so that the gauge glass showed water while I had continued to empty the boiler.  He put more water in and it fired right up.  The good news- there's nothing wrong with the boiler.  The bad news- if I just knew the gauge was stuck (or, more accurately, had a clue about anything) I could have saved myself some cash and aggravation.

I am the dumbest man on the planet, but at least I've learned that once you dismiss the concept of pride, things get a lot easier.

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