Chilly Wind

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The first call I got on Thursday was to see if it was too dangerous for my roofing contractor to work.

“It’s a metal roof! It’s slick!”

“Okay,” I said, groggily (the call was at 6:15). “What do you want me to do?”

“Can you go up and evaluate it?”

Perfect!

Just the sort of thing a 56-year-old man wants to do before the freaking sun comes up.

The job wasn’t too far from my home so at about ten minutes to seven I was approaching the roof where 6 guys stood on the ground below, hoping I was their ticket home.

The wind was howling and the first step out of the car froze my ample forehead.

“Son of a bitch!” I yelled and they all laughed.

“It’s brutal up there,” the first guy said. “Be careful coming off the ladder, seriously, it’s dangerous.”

“All right, get away from me.”

I went straight up the ladder as my fan club made catcalls from below.

I never worry about ascending or descending a ladder. I’ve been doing it since I was 17 years old. I’m also fairly adept at moving in ice and snow as I have also been doing that for years...

...as I stepped off the ladder onto the metal roof my left leg slid...

“See!” The one guy on the roof said.

And yeah, a metal roof packed with snow and ice isn’t ideal for walking or for carrying metal sheets.

Shoveling the snow wouldn’t help either - the deck was even more slippery when it was bare.

“Be careful!” They all called up as I was coming down the ladder. 

(They were sensing my decision and they were being nice to me).

“What’s the problem, you big babies?” I asked.

They knew me well enough.

“Go home,” I said. “I’ll send the report over.”

Headed back to my car.

There was ice hanging off my eyebrows.

I saw the bright red golf ball that I carry around with me.

We had played in 70 degree weather just 2 months ago.

Closed my eyes and pretended I was on the tee.

Gonna be awhile.

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