Thursday, January 30, 2014

A heroic rescue

Day 2…..Crawling to the mail

Ocean Boulevard, Myrtle Beach…not Ok!

OK!!!!…Stop!!!!….This isn't fun anymore.  
I was born in upstate New York near the Canadian border.  I am used to snow and cold.   When I was growing up we played in the snow all the time.  I made snow forts, numerous snowmen, and occasional snow woman.  I was the proud owner of a flexible flyer.  Snow was fun.
Summer wasn't a season, it was a day.

I am so over that.

I woke up this morning thinking that things would return to normal today.  
Yesterday was a lousy weather day in Myrtle Beach.  A snowbird neighbor chuckled, "The storm of the decade is on its way."
That was yesterday.  This morning I saw him crawling through the parking lot, trying unsuccessfully to reach his mailbox.  Very icy.  I decided to go help him.  I am pretty good with ice.  I dressed appropriately.  I stuffed some tools into my toolbox for the task.  A word of advice for ice walkers.  You should never, ever put a ice pick in your front pants pocket.  We are talking major scrotum evisceration here.

We live near the beach.  Our property is on a dune line.  We are elevated from the beach and the road.  As I  stepped outside and put my foot on the sidewalk I became airborne instantly. I landed quite nicely.  This always amazes my wife.  She asked me how I can fall all the time and never get hurt?  "Practice."

I have fallen many times.  I could teach a class in falling.  Perhaps the local college will let me teach it this fall.  I wouldn't even need a classroom.  A parking lot and some bananas would be sufficient.

Anyway….back on topic, the rescue of my neighbor, the smug snowbird.   After I hit the ground,  I started to slide down the parking lot past the snowbird guy.   I couldn't help but remark to him, "Ha!..storm of the decade indeed. "  He answered weakly, "Help me."

"I will be with you soon.  I saw the mail girl crawl by our mailboxes about an hour ago."  I shimmied up the mailbox post, and opened it.  It was emptier than a politician promise.  I still had not received my inheritence from barrister Michael Okuwan from Lagos, Nigeria.

"Help me…….Help me please"  
"I will be there soon, Bucko!"  I prepared my tools for the rescue.  I took out my hammer and started hitting the ice with it until I reached Mr. Snowbird's whimpering carcass.

"You should have a rescue kit, Mr. Snowbird man." I advised. 
"What's in your rescue kit?", He wanted to know.
"Let me see!!!…I have a hammer, icepick, a space blanket, some nylon rope, tampons, 2 Starbuck coupons in case I fall in front of one of the numerous Starbucks in Myrtle Beach,  Mrs. Dash spicy Italian seasoning and 50 cents for tips at Starbucks."

"Wow! You are really prepared for disaster.  I have a few questions for you. Why Mrs. Dash seasoning? why tampons?  and why Starbucks?"

Ok….The Mrs. Dash is a salt substitute.  We do not use salt.  Too much sodium.  It should do just as good a job on ice as salt.  If it doesn't,  you have some pretty tasty ice.   The tampons?…that was a mistake.  I don't hear really well.  I thought they said tampons.  They actually said crampons.  An honest mistake.
Starbucks because I don't go to Dunkin Donuts.  DD carded me for proof when I was 68 years old.  That was a few years ago.  Mr. Snowbird eyes widened. "You're older than me.  Help us…Help us, please.  For God's  sake help two old men…Please…someone!"

I started thinking.  This guy is getting hysterical now.  Maybe I should not have mentioned my hearing problem and my Dunkin Donut issue.  Thank God, I did not mention my vision problem and my memory problem. I have to get him calm.  Perhaps I should slap him.  No, No,  A bad idea. My bad shoulder.

I handed him the hammer.  "This is the best way. Use the hammer to break the ice. Drag yourself home."  He just looked so pathetic when he again said, "Help me."

I used the ice pick to get myself home.  A tough 75 feet.  I look out the window occasionally to check on Mr Snowbird.  He seems to be making progress.  Hmmm…It's starting to rain again.  Freezing rain.
I hope he returns my hammer when he's done.

I think I see his lips moving as he removes the icicles hanging from his nose.  I think he is saying, "help me."
I could be wrong about this. My vision is not great. Or my eyesight.

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