Waist Deep In a Big Muddy

-
As I've been prone to do, I woke up in a bit of a down mood. I decided to visit a site where there was a big Red Sux fan so I could hammer him a little bit, but it wasn't as much fun as I thought because he just conceded that the Yankees were better this year. He wasn't passing along any wishes for the rest of the playoffs, but it was hard to kick at him when he was so congratulatory.

So I moved on. I decided to visit a site where the contractor is working on putting up a pole barn for horses. It's a nice little ride and with Howard Stern along, I felt my mood picking up a little.

I did my work, met with a few people, and then seeing the foreman across the way, decided to take a short cut off the pavement.

My left leg went into the mud up to the freaking hip. Having no way to balance myself, I had to place my right leg in close proximity to the left, or I was going face first. The right leg also sunk as if I were in quicksand.

The sounds of the laughter made my skin crawl, but I actually had a bigger problem. I couldn't get free.

The foreman was along in a New York minute. I was working hard to free myself but it was becoming apparent that it wasn't going to work without his helping hand.

"Say the Yankees suck," he said.

I placed my right hand on the pavement and pushed upward. It became clear to him that I wouldn't denounce the Yankees even if I were up to my teeth in the mud, so he gripped under the left arm and helped me out.

Now how do you regain your dignity in front of a crew of men after you just went three feet down in a mud pit?

"Thanks for telling me about the mud, a--holes," I said as I slipped back towards my car.

They laughed me out of the parking lot.

Yet the best part of the story is that I wanted a photo of what I looked like so I could place it on the blog, but as luck might have it, the camera was in my front pocket and the photos for the day didn't turn out. Seems like mud retards the photo-taking operation.

So, here I sit. No worse for the wear, really, but I do know that there will be six people who watched it happen who are going to start their dinner conversation thusly:

"You should see what this idiot did on one of the sites today...

No more Red Sux bashing for me.

Until tomorrow.

Comments

deafjeff said…
hey you said "retard" that's not nice
14 October, 2009
Carrie Lynn Fazzolari said…
The post was really funny - glad you held your ground with regard to the Yankees though.

Pops - your comment made me giggle like crazy.
14 October, 2009
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Suits

-
Like a lot of other people we got pulled into the series, ‘Suits’ on Netflix. I’ve never had much fun hanging around lawyers who have questioned me as a construction safety officer. I once testified in a case where the opposing lawyer started questioning me by going through my educational background. “So,” he said, racing to a crescendo, “You graduated from college with a degree in Communications-Journalism and suddenly, 30 years later, you’re a ‘safety expert.’” He actually made the quotation marks with his fingers. I just looked at him. “How does that happen?” He bellowed, sure that he was going to discredit me. “Well,” I said. “I knew I was overqualified to become a lawyer.” The courtroom erupted in laughter. Even the judge chuckled. The rest of his questions landed flat. So, I wasn’t all that keen on a show about lawyers, but ‘Suits’ is great. Meghan Markle became a princess because of the show, and she is very good in it (and a beautiful woman). Yet, there is so much more. The wri
Read more

My Buddy, Dave

-
Way back in 1997, I started working with a steel erection company out of Syracuse. I was coming straight from a long stint with a steel erector here in Buffalo so I knew my stuff when it came to steel erection safety rules. On day one, I met with the safety director and he was just getting started as a safety guy, but man, he certainly cared about the guys he worked with. Dave was a good man from the start. He’d say things like: “You’re so full of beans.” Just a down to earth, hardworking guy who became a fast friend. We drove all around New York State setting up jobs. I always let Dave drive so that I could rest. One fine day, way up North of Syracuse, we passed a state trooper.  I glanced at the speedometer. “You’re screwed,” I said, and seconds later, the lights came on. Dave was beside himself.  The cop stopped by the window, grabbed the license and registration and headed back to his vehicle. “Here’s the thing,” I said. “You’re pissed, but you’re such a good guy that I bet you tha
Read more

Mom & Ollie

-
Image
 Ollie Stadium is a mess. The heavy rains rendered the backyard a mud pit and even though we threw in the side yard, the Big O was looking for more, and we were both covered in mud. I had to take some steam out of him somehow so I suggested we go visit Grandma. Ollie hates the car, but he laid quietly as we made the trip. We even brought the football because there is plenty of room to play at Grandma’s. Mom opened the door and started laughing. I thought about the love she had for every single dog we ever had. Oliver was quick to give my Mom a kiss, and then he stood beside her. The love between Mom and Dogs is a mutual bond. Through the years, Mom would make breakfast for the dogs.  Fried eggs, toast, bacon… She would wrap Christmas gifts for them. “To Jeter, Love Santa,” she would write on the cards. They played with the big chicken that made a lot of noise. Mom tossed the football and Ollie brought it back to her. As the visit drew to a close I headed for the door.  “C’mon, Oliver,”
Read more