Regular Life

“Dude, I am not leaving here until that’s fixed.”

That was my brother, C, right after he finished his shower in Granddad’s bathroom. He marveled at how hard it was to rinse himself. Stay with me on this. It makes total sense, really.

There’s a scene in Pulp Fiction called “The Bonnie Situation.” Remember that? Here at Granddad’s house, we have the Showerhead Situation.

It’s been a known problem since about 15 years ago, during the only heated argument my Granddad and I ever had.

I stayed here the summer after my freshman year in college, doing a photography internship at The Hutchinson News. My grandmother was still alive at the time, so it was just the three of us.

Evidently, a few times after I showered Granddad found some water on the bathroom floor. Let me just say now that my grandfather is a very nice, softspoken man. He just got fed up.

“Mark, you’ve got to aim that showerhead at the wall so that the water doesn’t spray over the side.”

Granddad was almost stone deaf at the time (I say “was” because now he is), so speaking with a raised voice was expected. In essence, I was yelling at him from the start, but it wasn’t my fault.

“I am aiming it at the wall,” I yelled.

“The hell you are!”

“The hell I’m not!”

I was more careful to soak up any excess water after my shower, and he never knew the difference.

I tend to take a longer shower than a man of my grandfather’s generation can begin to understand. I have no idea why, because I don’t just stand there. I’m scrubbing or rinsing the whole time. Maybe I go OCD when I get in the shower. I don’t know.

What might be a little bit of overspray during a short shower becomes a frog-strangler during a long shower.

You ever see a showerhead with a few wild geysers shooting off at weird angles? Usually it seems like one of those is spraying only cold water, and you try to avoid it to keep from freezing. Or, you have to stand off to one side so that unruly squirt doesn’t rinse something while you’re trying to soap it. Sometimes, these rebellious offshoots are so bad that they send water over the curtain or the door, whichever the case may be.

In this case, Granddad turned the showerhead at such a sharp angle toward the wall that the middle of my back is the lowest spot the water hits directly. Rinsing any lower than that involves cupping my hands to splash water where I need it. Visualize it a little if you can, but don’t go overboard, freak.

C decided it was time for action. There is no need for our grandfather to put up with that any longer. We had a full day to blow before Granddad’s homemade pork chop and corn-on-the-cob supper at 4:30. We were going to change out that showerhead.

Now, this is risky. Granddad does not like changes in his daily routine. If one or both of us asked him if he liked the idea, he would say no thanks, it works fine for him. Maybe it does, but it could work great. We had a mission.

A plumbing guy helped us find what we needed at Lowe’s. When we returned, I provided the diversion while C installed it. I dashed back there to check it out, and it’s amazing. Showering nirvana.

We just discussed whether to tell Granddad before his next shower. We’re leaning toward not saying a word. I’ll let you know how it went.

Our Team is in the Final

The University of Arkansas - Fort Smith made it to the final game in the NJCAA Tournament. We play Tallahassee Community College. One of the players for UAFS signed with the Razorbacks. Other players from this tournament go on to play for major NCAA schools. This is a great way to see talented athletes for the low, low price of… I have no idea because Granddad paid. How can you get a better price than that?

Now we’re watching the NCAA. The UConn Huskies just went into overtime with the Washington Huskies. I predict that the Huskies will win.

Jimmy Crack Corn

I heard the sound of metal hitting concrete. I looked out the back door, and Granddad was hammering something.

“What is he doing?” I asked. Surely it was an activity better suited to one of his 30-something grandsons.

He was pounding a chisel to split frozen corn cobs.

“He’s cracking corn,” C said.

I just looked at C. “Wow. I wish I would have had my camera ready.”

C chimed in. “Good thing his name’s not Jimmy.”

Tourney Pics

I had to shoot these at 1600 ISO to get any kind of shutter speed, so they’re noisy.

The Reivers played in the second semi-final game. They lost. If you get why the Reivers are topical, then you get an accolade in the comments. I owe Simon one. I’ll go do that now, Simon. Sorry.

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