MaineCourse

Rocket Science

Dear Adam,

Do you remember the skylight we installed in Wayland? What road, I don't remember, but the house was a modest ranch and not far north of where Sherman’s Bridge Rd. meets Rt. 126. You and I had just finished the framing, when Rick comes by, and as often happened, he pointed out what we had done incorrectly. He wanted supporting members from the rafters to the ceiling joists, which, structurally, you tried your best to argue against. But he persisted. Later, with more experience under my belt, I realized you were right and he was wrong. Much like your argument about how to cook omelets that I listened to from the bathroom off Rick’s kitchen. You said moderate heat, Rick said high. The cookbook I had in hand said, moderate.

But the point of the story is not the skylight, nor the omelet, but the electrical wire that was running through the skylight shaft opening in the ceiling. It needed to be rerouted, which meant it first had to be cut. I was standing on a ladder, head in the ceiling, when Rick, below me and holding those big wire cutters with green handles, asked if he first needed to turn the power off. I guess I was tired of him telling us to redo our work because I said, “No.” Bang/Flash/Sparks, wire cutters destroyed, Rick spooked, but alive.

Friday I was finishing the outside wall repair at the condo up the street. The owner worked on rockets at Hanscom and traveled to northern latitudes like Alaska for launches. His unit abuts Amelia’s, the creator of the wooden flowers.

I grabbed my sawzall to make one last blind cut to remove a piece of rotted band joist. With the end of the blade buried in the wall, I sawed away. Bang/Flash/Sparks/Flames! I cut right through a wire running from the panel to who knows where. Maybe the outdoor light above my head. “Jumping Jeshosophat,” I said, and praised my double insulated sawzall, plugged into -we both know- an extension cord with the ground prong broken off.

What to do? With the surrounding fiberglass insulation blackened, but no fire, and in a hurry to finish, I decided to splice the wire ends, add a junction box, mark where it is, and close-up. Learned that from Rick too, but without the metal box.

I climbed down from the second floor deck, walked through the slider and over to the fuse box. I scanned the breakers, saw one tripped, said to myself, “Great,” went back to the fried wire and pulled on the end dangling from above. Not the one from below - that surely, I reasoned- was the feed from the electrical panel. With my bare metal wire cutters in hand, I grabbed the hefty white wire and squeezed. Bang/Flash/Sparks, the beginning of my life in review, and another tool fried. This time I got down on the icy wet deck, filthy saw dust mixed with bird shit and god knows what else, and kissed it.

That’s when Bill Lynch, the condo owner and retired rocket scientist appeared at the door. After I explained why I had my lips glued to the frozen deck, he scurried off to find his volt meter. I moved back to the wire and began, with the super duper, SuperKnife you gave me, to strip the ends of the white, black and red leads. Expose the ends, connect the volt meter and we’ll know if they are still live. Confident the breaker had tripped, but not totally so because it hadn't the first time, I hurried to finish before Bill returned. Maybe that is why I inadvertently crossed the hot and ground with the blade of my knife. Again, the same frightening explosion of sparks, but this time Bill is watching from the door. Thinking, no doubt, That guy is not a rocket scientist.

---

Susan, the second box arrived on Saturday.

From the vault - John Lewis & Matt on Matt's birthday.
View larger image

Boy, I barely remember the lad seen here, replaced by a brooding young man working on muttonchops. Lovely, loving image, though.

And boy, I barely remember being dumb enough to do all those things, but you remember (and yet still forget) enough for all of us. I'm not sure, but I think my wife, who makes great omelettes, cooks them over pretty high heat.

Glad you once again lived to tell the tale, which you once again do quite entertainingly.

Posted by almost an uncle.

Je-he-zus! Yup, reminiscent of your devil may care days, before Daddyhood.

Brave of you to publicize such stupidity.

Posted by scientist.

Anything for a laugh.

Posted by Daddy.

What a touching picture! Reminds me of the way Matthew (as he was known in his pre-Matt days) used to find multiple points of contact. Example: eating breakfast together, his chair would be pushed against mine, his cereal bowl also pushed against mine. What sweet recollections.

Concerning me in the picture, note the deft way I'm handling the shovel. It's easy to see why I've always had a killer backhand in ping-pong.

Just one question: what the heck was I doing there?

Posted by John Lewis.

The picture made me cry with joy.
John's comments made me cry with tenderness.
The writing made me laugh with recognition
and admiration.
The story made me cry with.....

Posted by labile.

Mikey, you need a fulltime keeper to protect you from yourself. It's a good thing for all concerned that you married Diane and not me. Were you my husband, I would surely have killed you in sheer exasperation before you ever had a chance to father that beautiful child with his curly head and wrinkled wrists, hands on knees "doing stuff" with his beloved "Johnny." The pair of them are so dear. Might you have a picture to post of the duo mowing the lawn?

Posted by SIL.

Say what?

labile ['le?b?l]
adjective
1  (Chem)  (of a compound) prone to chemical change
2  liable to change or move[ETYMOLOGY: 15th Century: via Late Latin labilis, from Latin labi to slide, slip]
lability [l?'b?l?t?] noun

Posted by in the dust.

Bang/Flash/Sparks/Flame! How familiar that sounds, and wht an image it conjures. I must admit, I've done the same thing. However, for me they were three separate occasions. I wouldn't be stupid enough to do it more than twice on the same project. Mathew sure was a cute little guy. How did he grow up so quickly?

Posted by Q.

Twice...you did it twice?! From the woman who set her backyard on fire burning leaves, I can't comment but I am bemused. As, no doubt, was the rocket man. Very sweet picture. I cook my omelettes on high heat.

Posted by chris.

John, we have another photo in that series. It clearly shows what you two are doing. And that is planting what looks exactly like a clump of grass in that hole. I have no idea what it really was.

Posted by Mike.

Posted by Michael at December 15, 2003 12:29 PM