Just so you know, it IS genetic...

From my brother, Renaissance Man...
Just fixed one of the white drawers in the playroom with the new slider (from a year ago??).

Works great - especially when I don't:
1. put them on upside down
2. backwards
3. at different heights
4. missing all but one screw.

If you avoid these problems (or fix them) then everything works great.

CrafterKat's comment: Home improvement isn't for sissies.

The Miracle Worker

In high school, CrafterKat encouraged me to participate in the after school drama program. "You don't have to be on stage," she explained, "there's lots of stuff to do behind the scenes." So I took a chance, stepped out of my comfort zone, and joined the zany group that routinely performed. My first production was The Miracle Worker, the story of Helen Keller. CrafterKat played the role of Aunt Ev and I, not being a seamstress or mechanically inclined to stage craft design, assumed the role of Properties Manager.

It was my job to make sure that the furniture got moved on stage for different scenes, that the actors had their walking stick or suitcase, and that the table was set for the big food fight scene when Annie first arrives to teach Helen. I remember that the bassinet used in the opening scene was mine, an antique that my parents had kept for me for my future children. The doll that Annie brings Helen was my own, a Raggedy Ann my grandmother had made. And the food fight? I cooked up a batch of food before every performance that the actors would secretly eat when they were supposed to be "frozen" on stage.

Helen's parents were played by the high school drama redhead--a statuesque singer with a charisma streak that was off the charts--and a somewhat portly young geek who was new to our school. The contrast between these two was quite acute. Everyone knew the redhead was going to continue in the drama arena after school--she could sing, act, she was humble, and very nice. The new guy was a bit harder to read--he could act, yes, but he had this very subtle, quiet humor that could leave us in stitches if his comment was above a stage whisper. Our redhead became a stage actress back east (Chicago?) and we wouldn't be surprised if our young geek had a writing role on Mystery Science Theater 3000.

There's a part in the play where Annie takes Helen to a summer hunting cottage off the Captain's vast estate to teach. As the main stage represented the house--the dining room, Annie's bedroom, and the infamous water pump in the front yard--we had little room to represent this important spot. The theater had two aprons, little bits of stage that jutted into the audience and cradled the orchestra pit. The front of the apron was perhaps eight feet wide but the part that attached to the main stage had to share space with the stage exit, so it tapered to only three feet.

We outfitted the apron with a little table and chair, and one rather large potted tree to represent that it was a summer house. The spot worked fine for Annie and Helen--there was plenty of room for the roughhousing that occured when lessons were portrayed--but it was tight for everything else. And it was not much better with a director who kept changing his mind about set design, lighting, entrance cues, and placement of props. That stupid potted plant moved to all four corners of the apron and the actors would adjust their stance and position each time.

At last, the director made a decision--place the plant at the cottage "entrance", the part attached to the main stage. The audience would be able to see Annie and Helen and the plant would be out of the way. Never mind that it was an obstacle to the Captain and Helen's mother. The Captain would battle the foliage with his walking cane, and keep one hand on the redhead to keep her from falling into the orchestra pit.

As the director paused rehearsal--yet again--we heard the Captain casually sum up his existence in the scene. "This is my wife. This my plant."

CrafterKat and I busted a gut. From that day on, we've used this simple statement in tight quarters when something else keeps interfering, usually a home improvement project when something isn't going quite right. Stuck under a leaky sink or moving a heavy bookcase? This is my wife. This is my plant.

As Bill Cosby says, "I told you this story so I could tell you another."


E-mail to CrafterKat:

From: JewelGeek
Sent: Thursday, April 03, 2008
Subject: JewelGeek's Day

8am          Ask MS Dean if the chalkboard on the drama stage is magnetic. She was to check yesterday afternoon.

10-noon   E-mail Evil PXE about not finding magnetic boards and who should I talk to about ordering one.

2pm          Per Evil PXE's e-mail, check Athletic Center for floater board used in coaching.

2:15          Discover that there are mounted boards in the Weight Room. Wrinkle nose at smell.

2:30          Discover that the other boards are cork bulletin boards. Not magnetic.

2:45          Find a white board with past principal's old schedule in the Athletic Storage Room!

3:00          Laugh at the names of people who don’t teach here anymore. Haul board back to office.

3:05          Discover that it is not magnetic.

3:06          Cry a little on the inside.

3:15          Go back to Storage Room WITH magnets. Find chalkboard on wheels.

3:16          Pray

3:17          Rejoice. Chalkboard is magnetic

3:18          Worry about yanking board without talking to Athletic Director.

3:25          Find Academic Dean and tell her about Board, explaining that the coach diagrams look to be from football season.

3:30          Ask where to get money to buy magnets.

3:35          Head to Athletic Cent-- Wait. Bathroom

3:37          Think to self. It’s a good spot, you know?

3:38          Wonder if there is a White Board already in the Conference Room…?

3:40          Nope.

3:42          Enthusiastically walk towards Athletic Center, heading for stairs.

3:45          How am I gonna lug the thing up stairs? Elevator is too small…

3:50          Cry a little on the inside.

3:55          Pray and head to back boiler room, down the hall from the conference room.

4:00          No broken chalkboards on wheels.

4:05          Behind fake stage foliage, one white magnetic white board.

4:06          This is my plant. This is my magnetic board.

Tuesday's One More Something Else

Random Family Conversation #103

CrafterKat, after finishing her dinner: I need one more something else.*

JewelGeek: No?**

CrafterKat, nodding: Yes. A glass of milk and some Oreos.

JewelGeek, rummaging in kitchen: I don't know... I was told that these were Critter's cookies...

Critter, sighing dramatically: I guess she can have one.

CrafterKat, looking through the tray of cookies: I'll just eat the ones that were made funny. The ones that they didn't put together right.

Critter, sighing again: Are you fingering every one of those cookies?

CrafterKat: No.... But I did lick each one....

Critter, JewelGeek: Ewwwwwww!



Family Encyclopedia Notes:

* One more something else -- The Emperor Penguin's pre-bedtime request after the glass of water and additional story was for "One more something else."

** No -- (noun) means desserts or sweets. When the Golden Poet lived with CrafterKat's parents during college, she would bake cookies. Mr. GoGoGo was trying to lose weight and stay away from sweets. But he cannot resist cookies. He began saying "no" to any suggestion of baking or bringing sweets into the house. We all started calling sweets "No."

Floyd's Looking

As with many families, we have our own set of catch phrases and family sayings that only members of our immediate familial circle understand. Many of them come from a shared love of Bill Cosby monologues, quotes from movies or television shows, or the zinger from some family story we tell again and again.

One such phrase from our Family Encyclopedia comes from CrafterKat's visit to Atlanta. A friend of a friend, chauffeuring her through the various Peach Blossom streets of the city, explained that she sometimes had difficulty coming up with information at the spur of the moment. Like when someone asks you a question and the answer is just in the shadows and you can't verbalize it.

She visualized the process as having a little person running around a huge library in your head, flipping through card catalogues and reference books until he comes up with the answer. Trouble is, he ages at the same rate you do, so sometimes it takes a lot longer to get the answer. The woman named him Floyd and would often say, "Floyd's looking!" when she was ruminating.

Now, to toss in a Bill Cosby line...

"I told you that story so I could tell you this one."

Text of an e-mail in response to "what are you doing?"

To: CrafterKat

From: JewelGeek

Sent: Friday, July 20, 2007

RE: Pig Dog e-mailed! Can he stay with us? Please, please, please?

[...]

The Evil PXE spoke with Microsoft today about Vista licenses.
Oh.
My.
God.

We bought a Volume License from [Local Tech Consortium] which means that we can use one Key for all the licenses we purchased. Fine. Now we have 28 new licenses from Dell. We want to roll those into the one mega-license we bought from [Local Tech Consortium]. Should work just like it did with XP. We’re sort of on the honor system when we buy anything with a Volume License. Dell assured us that we could roll the individual licenses we got with our new machines into the Volume License we had already purchased.

So… Student Intern 1, being the ever so helpful intern he is, installed the [Local Tech Consortium] license of Vista over the Dell license of Vista. He basically wiped the hard drive on a new machine and installed it from scratch. My old computer is sitting in the hallway, unplugged, and to all concerned, is not running Vista. He got an error message saying that the license key he is using wouldn’t work.

So he calls Microsoft with the number Dell gave us.
In the Philippines.
To speak with Floyd.

I’m beginning to think it’s THAT Floyd.

The Evil PXE got on the phone and tried REPEATEDLY to explain what we needed, that applying individual licenses will not work in our environment. We need to be able to image a machine immediately and free up a license so we can install it elsewhere.

Floyd recommended that we uninstall Vista on the old machine. The Evil PXE exploded. "And just how are we supposed to do that? You can't just go into Add/Remove Programs and remove the Operating System... (pause)...Are you a tech? No, I don't think you are because any computer technician would tell you that's not what you do. You erase the hard drive. Which is what we did!"

What if the operating system just failed and we need to re-install the license on the same machine? That’s basically the same thing as was happening in my scenario. My old machine is unplugged but it could have had its hard drive go belly up. How do we instantly re-install the license? And how do we get those 28 new machines rolled into the one we already have?

Floyd’s friend said that the Evil PXE should call another number… Which he gave him… Which the Evil PXE reminded him was the one he already called. In the Philippines. To get to Floyd…

After an hour, the Evil PXE said "screw it" and called [Local Tech Consortium] in Wilsonville, about thirty minutes away. [Local Tech Consortium] apologized profusely and said that the license number he gave us has only 500 activations on it and they’ve all been used up. Several schools in Oregon are doing what we do, trying Vista out on a small set of machines. He has to call someone in Microsoft—Laurie—to have her increase the amount again. Laurie’s on vacation.

“But you can use Montana’s key. No one there is using it yet.”

And so we did.

And it worked.

And we are happy.

The End.