Sunday, September 9, 2012

Eclectic Electric


Sometimes the smallest act of kindness can beg immeasurable appreciation. I have had two lamp fixtures gathering dust in my bedroom for three months, waiting to replace the ugly ones in my bathroom. A friend had said he could put them in for me, but he got busy at work. Since the other lights worked I was willing to wait until he had more time. That time came at about 9am on a Sunday morning.

Still in my pajamas, with the Sunday paper and a cup of coffee in front of me when he called, I didn’t dare lose the opportunity so I said come on down. Ten minutes later, he was at my door, raring to go. I was still in my pajamas. If he didn’t care about my “who-did-it-and-ran” hairdo, then neither did I. Guys are great that way.

About 15 minutes later, the new lights were in and I was ecstatic. I just wanted to stand there and flip the light switch on and off the whole day. He was like, “big deal.” Little did either of us know, the big deal was yet to come.

Lucky for me, he chose this particular day to come over. The day before, I had bought a hanging swag light that required an additional “kit” containing the necessary attachments to make it work. The salesman was very casual about my questions concerning the need for this kit.

“Can I put this together myself?” I asked. “Sure, sure,” he said. “I bought the same lamp for my parents,” as if this response answered my question. He handed me a package that I took on faith was the kit I needed, with all the necessary parts inside. I bought the lamp and its kit, and headed home to assemble it.

Put it together myself? Yeah maybe, if I had an electrical engineering degree. All I was able to do was thread the cord through the chain. Then there were all these wires and orange screw caps, and screws with no thingies on the end for a screwdriver. There was also some hardware I couldn’t even identify. The instructions basically said, “Install the light,” and then repeated it in French. I sat down and tried to remember what I had done with the receipt.

Enter my friend, who came over to do me a favor and quickly install the bathroom lights. “While you’re here,” I said, and explained my plight concerning this “easy to install” light. He said sure, he could do that. Forty-five minutes later, while completely ignoring my recitation of the instructions and not even using half the parts in the stupid kit, he finally conquered the not-to-be-conquered-light.

I was so thrilled I hugged him, with him pulling away to get out of the house before I came up with any more “little” projects for him. As he left the house he reinstated my self-worth, assuring me that I would never have been able to assemble that by myself. Then the idea of flipping the light switch on and off all day came back to mind as an activity that would result in endless pleasure, and I ran upstairs to do so. Now I need a new light bulb.

Thank you, God, for not-so-small favors, like a friend who knows how sort out a bunch of wires and screws and turn them into something that looks like the box they came in.

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Football Season - Yay?



Football is my favorite sport, college or pro. My husband was an even bigger fan. He would get visibly upset or happy when his team was on the screen, screaming advice or admonishments as if the coach could hear him. And he always told his friends how happy he was that he had a “football wife,” because there I was, watching the games right along with him, and putting up with his shenanigans. Mostly.

I watched my first season opener today - Northwestern vs. Syracuse. Having gone to Northwestern for graduate school, it was obvious who I was for. Because of that, and the fact that he had a team where one of us went to school and the game was actually being televised, Mason was thrilled to get excited about watching the historically worst football team in the Big Ten.

Oddly enough, the year I went to Northwestern, they ended up in the Rose Bowl. Sadly, that was the height of Northwestern’s days on top. Still, we always watched the Northwestern games, or whichever game was on, because after all, football season only lasted six months, not including preseason.

Like everyone, Mason had a favorite team – the NY Giants. He had wearable paraphernalia from an old-fashioned leather-type football helmet to Giants slipper socks, and he wore it all for every Giants game. He would get so worked up, it became my job to talk him down from believing that he was on the field. And if the Giants lost, it would be a miserable Monday.

But back to Northwestern. The game was great. Northwestern scored 28 unanswered points, and then Syracuse did the same, bringing the game down to two minutes with Northwestern down by a touchdown. SCORE! Northwestern tied the game at 41-41 and only needed the extra point to walk away with the game. What a game!

They scored the extra point and walked away the victors. Yeah for my side. When I turned to Mason to share my glee over a heated game where our team won, he wasn’t sitting there, where he always was when a game was on. He died last year, mid-season. I kept on doing his picks for him in the family football pool anyway, and wouldn’t you know, he ended up winning the whole thing.


Watching the Super Bowl alone last year, when Mason’s NY Giants won, was hard. But today I realized that he wouldn’t be sitting in his football chair at all this season. No drama. No Mason. Just me.

When someone dies, people always talk about going through first holidays and other events without your spouse, child, parent… I’ve been through his birthday and Christmas with nary a tear, but today, when I looked for him to help me celebrate our victory and he wasn’t there, I can’t say the same. This is a first I hadn’t anticipated having to go through without him, and it isn’t just for a day.

The NFL season opener is next week. It’s the NY Giants vs. the Dallas Cowboys, the team that Mason hated the most, so it’s a big game in our family. That game is going to be a hard first, and it’s only the first game of the season.

Football will always be my favorite sport. But I think this will be the first year that I’ll wish the season wasn’t so long.