Hick, the King of Non Sequiturs

If a tree falls in Val's woods, does Hick hear a sound?

Last week, Hick was getting the groceries out of T-Hoe's rear, while I sat in the driver's seat, waiting to close the hatch and then the garage door. I was talking to him while he picked up the bags.

"Is that a new tree that fell down? Or just the other one that I'm noticing from a different angle? Step back and take a look at it."

"Yes. It's settling. We might end up having those people come who put foam under it."

What in the NOT-HEAVEN???

So... it was the same tree, just settling. But why would we want to put foam under it? What's wrong with a fallen tree settling to the ground in the woods? We're not going to walk under it. A more anticipated response might have been, "I'll let one of my buddies come cut it up for the wood."

Hick looked in at me as he walked past the passenger door. Must have noticed my confusion.

"What?"

"That's not at all what I was talking about! I'll tell you inside."

I realized Hick had been fixated on the concrete of the garage floor and the carport. There's a little bump there now on my side of the garage. About a 2-inch "step" down to the outside carport as I back out of the garage. Sometimes going in, the tires stop, and I have to gas it to get over the hump, and immediately brake so as not to crash through the front wall.

When I explained this miscommunication in the kitchen, Hick stepped outside to look at that tree. Yes, it was a NEW old tree that had fallen down in the past couple of days. Not the smaller fallen tree that is directly behind the house. He voiced no plan to do anything to it.

Asking Hick a question is like opening a box of chocolates...

A Continuation of Annoying Events: Part 3, Hicksplanations

When Hick strolled through the kitchen and said, "I guess I need to get a new battery for the generator," I was sure I knew the reason it hadn't started.

"Oh. So the generator didn't start because the battery was dead."

"No. It wouldn't start because it had bad gas."

"You just SAID that you need to get a new battery for it."

"I do."

"Then it was a dead battery, not bad gas!"

"Nooo. I couldn't get the generator to start. The battery was dead. So I pulled on the rope to start it. Like with a lawnmower. I couldn't pull it fast enough. Because of the bad gas. So I hooked it up to the Acadia to jump the battery. FINALLY it caught on, and started."

"Yeah... once you jumped the battery, the generator started. So if it had a good battery, it would have started. The reason it didn't work was the BATTERY!"

"No, Val. You cain't understand nothin'! It was the BAD GAS! There was gas left in the generator from the last time I used it. I could smell that it wasn't right when I got the generator out. The gas gets thicker. It won't go through the carburetor. It turns into something like varnish. That's why I couldn't pull the rope to make the motor spin. The gas was bad. Too thick."

"But the generator DID start, once you jumped the BATTERY!"

"Yeah."

"So the problem keeping the generator from starting was a DEAD BATTERY!"

"No. It was BAD GAS. I'm gonna get some additive to put in there this time. To keep the gas from going bad."

"AND you're getting a new battery."

"Yeah."

Okay. This was certainly going nowhere. I still say the battery was the problem. IF the battery had worked, the generator would have started, despite the bad gas. After all, it DID start when the battery was jumped, even though the "bad gas" was still in it. That's my explanation, and it makes sense to me. The Hicksplanation does not.

In other not-as-confusing news, Hick has a theory on what caused our power outage. He agrees that it likely had something to do with the cable man in the lift stringing cable on the electric pole.

"They got it fixed quick, once a crew showed up. There was nobody there when I came back with the gas, but a half hour later it was fixed. That had to be something simple. Like a breaker, or a transformer. They could have just reset the breaker, or put on a new transformer. They always have a good stock of them."

"So the cable man would know he messed up?"

"Oh, yeah. It would cause a big spark and a noise. Somebody could have even been killed!"

"Well, I doubt that, since there was no activity around there, and they were still stringing cable when you first came home."

"Probably not."

"So what could he have done to cause it?"

"Maybe nothing. The wind could have blown his cable into the live electric wire. That would have shorted out the transformer, or tripped the breaker. Maybe it was something he couldn't have avoided."

"Still, I'm sure they were the cause."

"Me too. When I came back with the gas, I could see that everybody had lights until I got to that pole on the sharp curve. From there home, it was all dark."

"He must have done it right before I got there! He was still at the same pole when I went by. Can they get sued by the electric company for damaging their equipment? Did they have permission to put their cable on the poles?"

"I guess they could. But there's usually an agreement. They all use the electric poles. The telephone company, and the cable companies. They lease the poles."

"Well. We always called them TELEPHONE POLES! Because my dad worked for the telephone company..."

That said, I know the electric company also has their own poles, because other relatives work for them, and have talked about having to bring in a new pole when a car knocks one down. 

Anyhoo... I can't agree with Hick about the reason for the generator not working. But I can't disagree with Hick about the reason for the electricity being off. One out of two is really good, when it comes to Hicksplanations.

A Continuation of Annoying Events: Part 2, Solutions

We left Val hobbling around her garage (TWICE) over uneven bricks and lumpy gravel, to gain access to her electricless hillbilly mansion.

I had no doubt that my power outage had been caused by those cable company linemen! That's the only explanation. The winds were much slower than the previous two days, when we hadn't had an issue. Only gusting to 14 mph, rather than 30. You can't convince me that our electricity was randomly disconnected while a man in a lift was mucking about with wires.

Once inside, I checked my phone to see what that email was about. It was from the electric company! Saying a potential outage had been reported in my area, with a restore time of 6:45 p.m. The time of the email was 3:48. It had been sent in the middle of my 10-minute drive home. I'm sure that cable guy had dis-electrified me just as I was leaving town. Nothing to do now but gather up flashlights and wait for Hick to get home to start the generator. It was going on 4:30 by the time I got things situated. I had about a half hour of daylight left.

I settled down at the kitchen table with my scratchers. Trying to stay out of trouble and not flush or run water or open FRIG II. I had washed my hands in oatmeal water! Meaning I had used the water I'd run into my breakfast oatmeal bowl to soak in the sink.

Hick was home shortly before 5:00. He immediately went out to get the generator going. I could hear the one running at the neighbors, but no sound from ours. That's not true. I could hear puttering. Sputtering. Light ceased coming in through the miniblinds. I turned on a flashlight. Scratching lottery like the pioneers had to do, heh, heh! FINALLY, after 20-30 minutes, I heard the generator start, and the lights came on. Hick came inside.

"I thought I'd never get it going. Now I have to go to town for gas. I don't have enough to run it long."

Off Hick went. At least I had lights and flushes. Meantime, I had another email from the electric company, saying that the cause of the outage was equipment damage, and they couldn't provide a restore time at this moment.

When Hick returned, he said there were no crews working on the electric lines. What with it being Veteran's Day, perhaps the electric company had trouble getting an on-call crew that was nearby. Hick said that I could use a burner, but not the oven. So I fried him a couple hot dogs for his supper. 

I continued scratching, and Hick watched TV. Of course I was freezing to death, though Hick said it wasn't even cold outside. It sure LOOKED cold! Had only reached the 50s, and supposed to go below freezing overnight. My hands were like ice. I could hardly grip my lucky quarter. I have no idea of the actual temperature inside. It might have only dipped a degree or two below the 70 it had been set on. I just knew that right now I had no heat, and I was FREEZING!

At 6:30, Hick went out on the front porch to see if our dusk-to-dawn light had come back on. IT HAD! At the same time, I got another email from the electric company, saying our power had been restored. You don't know how ecstatic that made me. Not only would I have heat now, but I COULD USE THE OVEN TO WARM UP MY BONUS REUBEN!!!

Hick went out to shut off the generator. I was standing at the kitchen counter. He said, "Stay right there, just like that! It's going to get really dark." So I did. Then Hick came back in with the flashlight, to go to the breaker box and hook us back up to regular electricity. Oh, and on the way through the kitchen, he said,

"I guess I need to get a new battery for the generator."

Which resulted in a whole new annoyance, one of Hick's "Who's on  First" explanations. Or as I've come to think of them: Hicksplanations.

Still, it's times like these that I'm glad I have a generator. AND a Hick.

A Continuation of Annoying Events: Part 1, Obstacles

You may recall that Val doesn't ask for much. Just a reliable vehicle to drive to town every day for scratchers, a couple hours in the afternoon/evening to scratch, and a Reuben once a month. Nothing extravagant. No jewels or fancy clothes or designer shoes or lavish vacations. She's a simple gal, our Val.

Tuesday started off well enough, though I was a bit worried about Hick on his trip down into the bootheel to pick up his FREE lawnmower ramp on his trailer. Temps were up into the low 50s by the time I left for town, so that was an improvement.

I had gone about a mile on our county blacktop road when I encountered my first obstacle. A white utility truck parked on my side of the road, blocking my lane. A man was in a lift, fiddling with a wire that ran across the road. There were two or three other white trucks parked in the field and driveway. I was able to squeeze T-Hoe past the lift truck, feeling like I had two tires on a tightrope where the road dropped off. At least I could see that no traffic was coming along that stretch. I immediately thought of Hick, returning with his trailer. And then the school bus, which was due in about 10 minutes. Odd that the workers did not have a flag man, or cones set up.

I couldn't call the school bus, but I DID call Hick. Just as soon as I got over the low water bridge and back up the hill where I had phone service.

"Hey, where are you? There are electric trucks working here by the Best Compound (our name for that property, with its row of mailboxes and several families.) You might want to come in the other way, because I don't think you can get your trailer past them without running it off the road."

Hick was almost back to the area of his SUS2.5, and had a couple other errands. He thought they might be gone by the time he came home. I said I'd update him on my return. Which took longer than expected, with my other obstacles.

A red truck was parked in my rightful handicap space at the Gas Station Chicken Store, also taking up half the FREE AIR space. It had handicap plates, so just beat me to it. Which didn't make my walk inside any shorter. 

When I left by the back alley, a local can opener factory had just let out, so the road was blocked from traffic backed up from the stoplight. 

I finally got the liquor store where I wanted to buy crossword scratchers, but I saw a little girl holding the door open with her back, a tray of something she was selling draped across her forearms. No thank you! I don't appreciate such strong-arm tactics. That store is not a place for a tweenage girl!

I left the Liquor Store to buy my tickets at the 10Box machine instead. Where all the handicap spaces were taken. At least a space at the far left end was open, so I could park with assurance that T-Hoe's door would not be blocked when I returned.

After these five uncommon deterrents to my simple scratcher-buying trip, I breathed a sigh of relief and headed home with my tickets. It's only a 10-minute drive. I heard my phone, but it was an email, not a text, so I figured it was nothing important and didn't check. From the hill above the bridge, I could see that the utility trucks were gone. Once I got back over the bridge, I called Hick to let him know the coast was clear.

"Hey, the electric trucks are gone now. You can get by."

No sooner had I disconnected than I rounded a curve and saw a white lift truck parked in my lane! There was more room to get around here, because of somebody else's driveway. I rounded a sharp curve, and saw ANOTHER white truck parked on my side. And a yellow little gadget that looked like a wood splitter. Huh. I went around, and saw that the side of the truck said SPECTRUM. That's the local cable company. I guess maybe it had been them all along, and not the electric company.

I figured Hick could get by them with his trailer. So I didn't try to call back, since I was approaching our mailbox area down by the creek, where I lose phone service again. I was home within five minutes. It was now almost 4:00. My little dog Jack ran around back of the garage to greet me. I pushed the garage door opener.

IT DIDN'T OPEN!

That's really nothing new. For YEARS I have been telling Hick that I need a battery, or a new opener. I'm sure that comes as a surprise to you, heh, heh. Sometimes it takes 3 or 4 tries. Or 7 or 8. I crept closer and closer. Tapped that opener. Turned it in all directions. NOTHING! Why can't I have nice things? The other door, for A-Cad, always opens with the first push of the opener.

Though you may know me as a chaste dainty lady, Val has the ability to express herself like an outraged sailor. I made use of that skill then. Poor little Jack. I had to explain that it was HICK who was the subject of my X-rated rant, and not he.

The perfect end to a perfect hour, right? I stomped across the carport, over the rutted gravel, under the carport where SilverRedO is usually parked, with the three dog holes dug into the gravel, across the uneven Hick-laid-brick sidewalk, to the people door of the garage. Where I reached in and pushed the doorbell-like button to open my garage door.

NOTHING HAPPENED!

Well, great. The whole garage door must be bad. But wait! The lights weren't lit up in the doorbell-like buttons. 

VAL WAS POWERLESS! To be continued...

Not Just a Surprise, But a Bonus

I'm so happy that Hick discovered REUBENS for lunch Monday at the Senior Center! He brought home two, but said he was still full from eating the same meal for lunch.

Broccoli Cheddar Soup

Reuben Sandwich

Slaw

Hilda's Brownies

Hick opened them up to check on the soup for me. Once again, whoever bagged those take-out meals tied the white plastic bags in knots, like a giant boa constrictor might try to escape. Hick used his pocket knife to slash through them. He reported that it was Broccoli Soup. This was before he handed me the menu for this month, so I could read it for myself. I asked if it was good, and Hick replied that HE had vegetable beef soup, and it was great. Huh. I guess "the pet" gets special treatment!

The sandwich looked great. None of the slaw leaked out, even though Hick was flipping those bags around all willy-nilly as he came through the kitchen door. Like one of those flag people on an aircraft carrier. The soup and dessert containers were stacked on top of the sandwich/slaw containers. It's a wonder there wasn't a biononhazardous spill! The slaw was actually not as liquidy as it appears.

Hick said he didn't want the Broccoli Cheddar Soup. It wasn't bad. The soup was thinner than it appears here. I had three tiny florets of broccoli in mine. The amount was a half cup, in that cardboard container, which I heated in the microwave.

The brownie looked pretty good, but there wasn't an edge this time. I told Hick he could have mine. For being "not hungry," Hick sure was able to eat two brownies! I didn't think he would have them both at one sitting.

Anyhoo... here's the BONUS part! Hick said he was okay with me having his Reuben! Since he didn't like the "creamy" slaw anyway. So I got out of making Hick's supper Monday night, AND I had a second Reuben meal for myself on Tuesday. Except those Reubens are quite filling, and I didn't really want two whole ones, having planned on cutting mine in half anyway, to have over two suppers.

Here's my solution. I took the innards out of the second sandwich, and put them on the first one. I cut it in half, to have over two nights. Then I froze the other two slices of marble rye bread, for when I want to make a sandwich. I can never find that bread in the stores. The half-sandwich with double meat was just right.

I'm looking forward to Tuesday night's supper! Me and my half-Reuben, with our guests Broccoli Cheddar Soup and Slaw.

Good Thing Hick Didn't Pick Monday to Go to the Ends of Missouri to Fetch His FREE Ramp

Monday morning dawned bright and cold. Actually, it wasn't full dawn when Hick left home, after knocking the ice out of the dog dish and filling it with water. Our first hard freeze.

"It's supposed to be really cold today. And the wind!"

"I'm not worried. We have heat in the flip house."

"I just meant on the way. But it's supposed to warm into the 60s later this week. Oh, and you need to get a menu from the Senior Center. I can't tell you what your lunch is today. The old menu stopped on Friday."

"They're gonna be closed tomorrow. Veteran's Day."

"So get a menu today! I need to know when they're having Reubens. I hope it's not TODAY!!!"

"I'm pretty sure it won't be today, Val. But I'll try and remember a menu."

It's now 11:30 a.m. on Monday as I'm typing. An hour ago, I got a text from Hick:

"Reuben today I'm bringing two home"

Well, that was a close one! If we missed it, that means another month until a Reuben!!! I really hope Hick DOES bring home the Reubens. Usually, he tells me he has to call ahead and order them. I guess maybe he went by early, to do something at the apartments, and found out. Because normally, lunch isn't served until 11:00.

This might be the most exciting thing to happen to me all month! A surprise Reuben! I am wondering what dastardly shenanigans The Universe and Even Steven might have up their respective sleeves...

Hick's Logistics Needed to Acquire FREE Stuff

Hick's life is a tangled web of buddy relationships. All that mutual backscratching, hand-washing (AS IF!), and bread-buttering must fit into a complicated pattern that could warp the space-time continuum.

Every time Hick's phone rings in the evening, I suspect it's one of the elderlies. I turn off the music playing on HIPPIE to get a gist of one end of the conversation. Like on Monday.

"Hello? [Silence] No. No, that's okay. It's fine. You can do that. Not a problem. Okay. Talk to you later."

"Was that one of your old people wanting something?"

"No. It was my buddy who cleaned out our gutters. He wanted to borrow my trailer, so I said okay."

"That's a lot better payment than the $100 you gave him for balancing on our metal roof!"

I don't mind Hick loaning out "his" trailer. Even though somebody once borrowed his previous trailer, and it was involved in a high-speed accident and totaled, and the driver (plus the borrower) ran from the scene, leading to a knock on the door at 11:30 p.m. for Hick to be questioned by law enforcement officials concerning property damage to utility company structures. They had traced Hick through the license plate, which did not have the courtesy to fall off or be damaged as severely as the trailer.

Anyhoo... on Tuesday evening, Hick got another call.

"Hello? Yeah. Sure. No. I'll have to take my trailer. My truck don't have an 8-foot bed. It's only 6 foot. I can pick you up Thursday. Yeah. You can ride along with me. It's a long drive. Down past Casino Town. Near the bootheel. Okay. I'll talk to you later."

"Well, I figure that wasn't one of your old ladies. Unless now they want you moving furniture for them."

"No. It was my buddy that sold us the $5,000 house. He's got a steel ramp I can have. From his father-in-law who used to have a lawnmower business. I just have to pick it up. It's like a ramp I can use for loading a lawnmower."

"You can't do it Thursday! That's when you're grilling for The Pony. You'll be all tired and cranky by the time you get back."

"No I won't. But Tuesday might be a better day for it. I'll call him back tomorrow."

"Wait a minute! His FATHER-IN-LAW? How is THAT possible? Your buddy is older than you! He was your teacher! How is the guy still alive?"

"He's in a nursing home, Val. He's 99 years old!"

"And he just now decided he doesn't need his lawnmower ramp?"

"No. The family has been clearing things out for a while now." 

"How can he not know where the guy lived? It's his FATHER-IN-LAW! Why were you telling him where the town was?"

"I don't know the name of the town. But it's almost to Arkansas. It'll take a couple hours just to get there."

That still didn't answer my question, but as conversations with Hick go, I was okay with not pursuing the illogical interaction.

Anyhoo... I was also wondering if Hick would have his trailer back in time. Turns out he DID, because on Wednesday evening, he said he was going over to the BARn to hook up his trailer for the next day.

"Wait. I thought you changed your plan from Thursday to Tuesday to pick up the ramp."

"I did. But first, I have to patch my trailer. Some of the wood is rotted out. So I'm taking it over to the flip house to use the scraps we had left of the lumber. That's easier than loading the wood and bringing it out here."

Well. I don't consider driving a trailer to town easier than loading scrap boards in the back of a truck, but I'm not a handyman. Hick left home at 6:00 on Thursday morning. At 7:45, I saw SilverRedO drive through the front yard. Hick came running in through the front door.

"Whew! I gotta use the bathroom!"

I don't know why he feels the need to make these grandiose announcements. But when he came out, I had more questions.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were going to fix your trailer."

"It's fixed! I already done it, as soon as I got there. It's ready now."

Here it is Monday. Tomorrow, Hick is off to get his FREE ramp. Which only cost him a couple tanks of gas, some scrap lumber, and enough hours of time to delay an oil change for T-Hoe.