Memoirs of a Geezer!
Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth
to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!
This Episode: Plumbing and the Galumphing Geezer!
"What the heck was that?!!" I spoke the question in deep sleep, aloud, and it roused me from a haunting and rather violent dream. People were chasing and shooting at me! Eventually, conscious and somewhat lucid, I uttered a couple of obscenities, angered at being hurled awake by the nasty and troubling dream at 3:00 o'clock in the (obscenity) morning. I rose from my turbulent slumber, tripped over the slippers for which I searched and found rather painfully -- having stubbed a few toes! -- and padded to the bathroom, a necessary stumble in any event.
Nothing appeared amiss at first bump, but upon flushing the contrivance, I noted from the obvious lack of proper water-related sound that the commode was functioning improperly. The tank was not being replenished with water. Nothing was flowing, not a dribble of anything approaching a sufficient quantity to re-fill the reservoir. I uttered more obscenities as I realized I had to investigate the matter! I removed certain adornments from the top of the tank cover, and peered fecklessly inside at the thing's wet and repulsive mechanism
I took hold of the polymer tumbler that sits on an edge of the bathtub, and began re-filling the tank manually, cup by cup. It took a long time to bring the water level up to the proper mark! I returned the tumbler to its usual position at the side of the tub.
As a frugal householder -- cheap, if you like -- I was determined, despite the ridiculous hour in the (obscenity deleted) middle of the night, to ascertain the difficulty. For an inveterate "Don't-Do-It-Yourselfer-You-Unconscious-Buffoon," it was like opening the hood of an hybrid automobile and expecting mechanical wisdom to penetrate one's brain miraculously!
Inside the tank is a miniature resin, faucet-like device from which water is supposed to emanate into a narrow cylindrical tube from beneath said spout. That apparently is the system that replenishes the porcelain tank! No moisture escaped from the device... Nothing!!
"I wonder if it's the 'float,' " I pondered aloud. "Maybe I could replace the float, but is that the essence of the difficulty?!" again, aloud, as if the gods of plumbing would materialize and pour instructions into my ear! "Wait," I mused, "Is there a blockage in the water line?" I jiggled a few things. "Hold it," I said aloud, "maybe its an anomaly, and if I flush the business once again, all will function properly!" Nothing! ("Filthy swine of a toilet!!!," I said as I kicked the base of the thing, hurting my toes in the process! I mumbled additional obscenities!)
I took hold, again, of the polymer vessel that sits on an edge of the bathtub, and began re-filling the tank manually, cup by cup. It took a long time to bring the water level up to the proper mark... again!
At about 4:00 in the morning, having spent an hour investigating the difficulty, I accomplished nothing! Then I had an epiphany! "Had my brain been properly engaged," I pondered aloud... I often speak to myself as if I'm twin geezer idiots... "I might have covered the 10 paces to a kitchen cupboard and found a pitcher, filling it from the more robust spigot in the bathtub, thus
re-filling the toilet tank far more quickly and efficiently!"
Alas, that thought occurred to me only after an hour's worth of feckless fidgeting, jiggling parts and filling the tank with seemingly endless cups of water from the far less energetic bathroom sink spigot! I shuffled back to bed, somehow dropped off to slumber and had a nightmare about clogged drains, recalcitrant plumbing devices and treading water in a vast sea of angry, storm-ravaged flooded lavatories!! Gasping, sinking, gasping... Help!!
⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗
The following morning, undaunted, I hauled my tool box from our home's lower regions up to the bathroom, considered the problem carefully, looked stupidly at toilet, then at toolbox... In the end, I did in fact employ a more suitable tool -- I telephoned the plumber!! What a triumph... only $120.00 later...! (I should have watched to see what he did to fix the foolish damn thing!!)
_________________________________________________________________________________
Upon relating the story to SweetHeart, she reminded me of other "Proud Moments" in my "Fit-It-Yourself-You-Incompetent-Dolt" career!" Such as... Earlier on in our married life, SweetHeart's mother surrendered a 1974 Chevrolet to us. Certain things in that vehicle didn't
quite work properly. I peered under the heavy green hood, and began to "fix" stuff. I clipped some extraneous wires, removed a few unneeded parts... The air conditioner stopped working, strangely. "Why doesn't the horn honk?" I asked SweetHeart during one of our uncomfortably warm auto outings! SweetHeart didn't merely request, but rather demanded that I never again attempt to "repair" our automobiles.
(The Diesel engine "Rabbit" we owned had to be taken behind the garage and "shot" -- well, figuratively, sort of -- following my attempt to replace the "glow plugs"! I should always listen to SweetHeart and stay the hell away from any automotive part that is not situated inside the seating area... that, too, with circumspection!!)
(Special Note of Dedication and Gratitude): The perpetrator devotes this writing primarily to the beautiful, delightful, talented and much-loved Bethie, who wisely and graciously recommended that I immortalize in print what began as an "oral tradition" narrative. And to Alie, who suggested I use the ridiculously stilted language that I employed in the verbal telling of the "Toilet Tale." And to SweetHeart who reminded me to include certain "automotive adventures" in which the perpetrator has been known to stumble! The latter two personages are equally beautiful, delightful, talented and much-loved as well!!)
"What the heck was that?!!" I spoke the question in deep sleep, aloud, and it roused me from a haunting and rather violent dream. People were chasing and shooting at me! Eventually, conscious and somewhat lucid, I uttered a couple of obscenities, angered at being hurled awake by the nasty and troubling dream at 3:00 o'clock in the (obscenity) morning. I rose from my turbulent slumber, tripped over the slippers for which I searched and found rather painfully -- having stubbed a few toes! -- and padded to the bathroom, a necessary stumble in any event.
Nothing appeared amiss at first bump, but upon flushing the contrivance, I noted from the obvious lack of proper water-related sound that the commode was functioning improperly. The tank was not being replenished with water. Nothing was flowing, not a dribble of anything approaching a sufficient quantity to re-fill the reservoir. I uttered more obscenities as I realized I had to investigate the matter! I removed certain adornments from the top of the tank cover, and peered fecklessly inside at the thing's wet and repulsive mechanism
I took hold of the polymer tumbler that sits on an edge of the bathtub, and began re-filling the tank manually, cup by cup. It took a long time to bring the water level up to the proper mark! I returned the tumbler to its usual position at the side of the tub.
 |
| Example of a Polymer Vessel. |
As a frugal householder -- cheap, if you like -- I was determined, despite the ridiculous hour in the (obscenity deleted) middle of the night, to ascertain the difficulty. For an inveterate "Don't-Do-It-Yourselfer-You-Unconscious-Buffoon," it was like opening the hood of an hybrid automobile and expecting mechanical wisdom to penetrate one's brain miraculously!
Inside the tank is a miniature resin, faucet-like device from which water is supposed to emanate into a narrow cylindrical tube from beneath said spout. That apparently is the system that replenishes the porcelain tank! No moisture escaped from the device... Nothing!!
"I wonder if it's the 'float,' " I pondered aloud. "Maybe I could replace the float, but is that the essence of the difficulty?!" again, aloud, as if the gods of plumbing would materialize and pour instructions into my ear! "Wait," I mused, "Is there a blockage in the water line?" I jiggled a few things. "Hold it," I said aloud, "maybe its an anomaly, and if I flush the business once again, all will function properly!" Nothing! ("Filthy swine of a toilet!!!," I said as I kicked the base of the thing, hurting my toes in the process! I mumbled additional obscenities!)
I took hold, again, of the polymer vessel that sits on an edge of the bathtub, and began re-filling the tank manually, cup by cup. It took a long time to bring the water level up to the proper mark... again!
At about 4:00 in the morning, having spent an hour investigating the difficulty, I accomplished nothing! Then I had an epiphany! "Had my brain been properly engaged," I pondered aloud... I often speak to myself as if I'm twin geezer idiots... "I might have covered the 10 paces to a kitchen cupboard and found a pitcher, filling it from the more robust spigot in the bathtub, thus
Alas, that thought occurred to me only after an hour's worth of feckless fidgeting, jiggling parts and filling the tank with seemingly endless cups of water from the far less energetic bathroom sink spigot! I shuffled back to bed, somehow dropped off to slumber and had a nightmare about clogged drains, recalcitrant plumbing devices and treading water in a vast sea of angry, storm-ravaged flooded lavatories!! Gasping, sinking, gasping... Help!!⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗⃗
The following morning, undaunted, I hauled my tool box from our home's lower regions up to the bathroom, considered the problem carefully, looked stupidly at toilet, then at toolbox... In the end, I did in fact employ a more suitable tool -- I telephoned the plumber!! What a triumph... only $120.00 later...! (I should have watched to see what he did to fix the foolish damn thing!!)
_________________________________________________________________________________
Upon relating the story to SweetHeart, she reminded me of other "Proud Moments" in my "Fit-It-Yourself-You-Incompetent-Dolt" career!" Such as... Earlier on in our married life, SweetHeart's mother surrendered a 1974 Chevrolet to us. Certain things in that vehicle didn't
 |
| This model looks far more handsome than the automobile I "fixed"! |
(Special Note of Dedication and Gratitude): The perpetrator devotes this writing primarily to the beautiful, delightful, talented and much-loved Bethie, who wisely and graciously recommended that I immortalize in print what began as an "oral tradition" narrative. And to Alie, who suggested I use the ridiculously stilted language that I employed in the verbal telling of the "Toilet Tale." And to SweetHeart who reminded me to include certain "automotive adventures" in which the perpetrator has been known to stumble! The latter two personages are equally beautiful, delightful, talented and much-loved as well!!)
