January 10, 2005

• Breakthrough, Breakdown, and Crackups

  This one is about The Kid.  Doug and I have had a few interesting interactions lately.

  This weekend the temperature hit double digits subzero (F), but early
  last week it was raining here and the roof started leaking in a new
  place.  I was on the phone talking to Greyfox when I noticed water
  dripping off the bottom of the shade of the lamp on top of the big set
  of shelves that holds our stereo and a bunch of other stuff.  Most
  of the top of it is covered by our rock collection — lotsa rocks, and
  a stereo speaker at one end.

  While I wrapped up the conversation, I called Doug’s attention to the
  new drip and sent him to get something to put under it.  While he
  was doing that, he noticed two other places (besides right over the
  lamp) where other drips were hitting things on that shelf.  One
  was over the stereo speaker.

  We both understand how water and electricity are a hazardous
  combination, so we hustled to get a dishpan on top of the speaker to
  catch those drips and to move the lamp out from under the other
  drip.  As we worked there side-by-side, Doug said, “At least it’s
  not snowing.”

  I knew immediately what he meant.  It’s one of those things he and
  Greyfox agree on (and there are precious few of THEM):  You don’t
  have to shovel rain.  I indicated that I understood his sentiment
  and went on to grumble about the leaky roof.  Mind you, I’ve no
  cause to grumble.  It leaks this winter because no roof work got
  done last summer and I’m the one who would have had to instigate and
  supervise any roof work that might have gotten done.

  But I grumbled anyway, and Doug responded, “I thought you liked the
  great outdoors.”  Unable to resist that setup, I gave it the
  proper pause before I said, “I do.”  Then Doug joined in, “…as
  long as it stays outdoors.”  Maybe it wasn’t that funny all by
  itself, but it broke the tension of our scurrying attempt to stem the
  flood, and we cracked up together.

  Later on in the week, Doug broke down and removed the noisy CPU cooling
  fan from our computer, having been told by his techie friends online
  that the heat sink in there would take care of the cooling as long as
  it wasn’t a “high end” CPU.  No way does it even come close to
  high end.  Then, with the old one in hand as reference for size,
  model numbers and such, he set out to find a replacement for it online.

  He shopped for several days and learned, I’m sure, more than he ever
  wanted to know about cooling fans.  The first day of that process
  was stressful, I could tell.  He was testy, and he made a few
  comments about the vast multiplicity of available models and the total
  absence anywhere of the exact model he was looking for.

  On subsequent days, he became more distraught and irritable.  The
  night when he finally placed his order, he explained to me two of the
  things that were getting him down.  One was the main hazard
  involved in installing the new fan.  There’s a chance that he
  could inadvertently crush the CPU in the process. 

  The other matter that frustrated him was that none of the suppliers is
  willing to ship via U.S. Postal Service.  This means that we must
  depend on the flaky Papa Do Run delivery service that is the contract
  shipper handling those “second day air” shipments from the lower 48
  that usually take a week or more to get here.  Priority Mail is
  faster, and much cheaper.  Doug ended up paying $26.00 for
  shipping a $10.00 part.  He consoled me (and himself) that this
  was better than the $40.00 shipping charge that one of the sellers
  wanted.

  He explained that most of the sites that sell cooling fans assume that
  people need them because they’re overclocking their computers. 
  They also assume that their customers know what they’re doing. 
  Doug is learning as he goes along, and we are both grateful that there
  are some experienced computer builders among the gamers he consorts
  with at randominsanity.  It was one of them who warned him to be
  careful not to crush the CPU.

  The next day after that climactic night in which he finally made his
  choice and committed himself to it with credit card numbers, he wasn’t
  testy or irritable.  He was downright surly.  After he had
  yelled at me because I wasn’t playing my PS2 game as fast and
  efficiently as he thought it could be played (and his kibbitzing on my
  gaming is something we’ve hashed out between us before — it’s my game,
  dammit, and I know I’m old and slow, but, dammit, it’s ONLY A GAME!), I
  paused the game and confronted him.

  I asked if I’d done something to piss him off, or if he was pissed off
  at someone else and taking it out on me because I was handy. 
  After a bit of thought, he said it was probably residual tension from
  the cooling fan shopping experience.  He failed to see the humor
  in the matter when I had to laugh at his getting so distraught over shopping.  Perhaps I was a tad insensitive, but it was pretty funny to me.

  That covers one crackup and the breakdown.  The breakthrough came
  last night after I reminded Doug that the trash needed to go out and he
  needed to split some firewood and bring it in.  He was on the PS2
  at the time, so it didn’t get done immediately.  Stuff seldom does
  get done by him immedately when I tell him to do it.  I’m used to
  that.  I’m even used to it not getting done for days and daze, and
  sometimes not until I do it myself.  But that’s the non-essential
  stuff.  When the wood box goes empty, he refills it promptly.

  A bit later, as he was putting on his boots, I asked if he was getting
  ready to take out the trash.  He said no, he was suiting up to
  bring in firewood.  I said, “As long as you’re going out, why not
  take the trash with you.”  I was amazed when he replied,
  “Duh!”  He gave me this look with little lightbulbs in both eyes,
  and I could only think, “Finally! He’s got it.”  He is 23 years
  old.  Even if I only told him once a month through the years he’s
  been doing chores that he could save some steps (and in winter could
  save the heat loss of opening the door extra times, and in summer could
  keep more mosquitoes out…) by taking out what needed to go out when
  he was going out anyway, it amounts to hundreds of times I’ve given him
  the efficiency mini-lecture.  Now he’s got it, apparently.

  Last night as he was suiting up for that trip outside, I looked at him
  and liked what I saw.  I said that his hair and beard were looking
  good since the last trim.  It was preface to a pitch for keeping
  them trimmed, but he’s not about to let me cut his hair in
  winter.  The longer it gets the more insulation it provides. 
  He glanced in the mirror and said he likes the way his beard grows out
  forked.  “I keep thinking about waxing it…” he said.

  I said, “Yeah, you could let the mustache grow out into handlebars, wax
  them and twirl them up, too.  Let the beard grow out long and
  braid each fork separately.  Look weird, let the inner weirdness
  show.”   We both cracked up.
  

  • 4:56 pm
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