Loose Laces

The stove Carolyn bought last fall has a self cleaning oven; the first of such she has ever had. After stinking up the house and, in probability, most of the neighborhood yesterday while cooking a pot roast, she tried the self cleaner today. Seems to work well, and it gave me a chance to sit by an open window and listen to a nearby tree sparrow serenade the world. It was breathtaking in its beautiful simplicity. A little later, thunder boomed around the area for a few minutes, and as I write this, it rains in a steady, heavy drizzle. The sparrow singing and the thunder were the first sure signs of spring, and I expect to see robins in the yard any day. It has lifted my spirits to a level I've not enjoyed since last fall, and just thinking about hearing a robin thrills me. Hearing anything above this irritating tinnitus is a good thing.
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Alice, do you remember the little accident that caused most of the deafness in my left ear? I was a victim of horseplay of the foulest kind; in other words, horseplay in which I wasn't involved as a participant. It was at the old Texas Instruments plant where Glen and George decided to try to scare the girls at supper. It was the summer of '74, and the ladies were taking their evening meal at the picnic tables near the maintenance exit. Glen came up with the idea to fill a plastic garbage bag with an oxygen-acetylene mixture, sneaking it close to where the girls were sitting, and setting it off with a long fuse made of burning toilet paper.

All this was happening while "Ken the Innocent" was making repairs on the "round table" fry pan thermostat assembler on the other side of the plant. Just after finishing my work, I poked my head out the maintenance room exit door where George and Glen were setting up the fireworks. Glen was wearing jeans, but George was donning his usual knit slacks of some sort. As they finished filling the large bag with gas, George must have rubbed the plastic against his pants leg causing a static-electric spark, but all I saw was a huge flash and heard some popping noises. Glen came into maintenance area laughing, while poor George was completely bewildered. Both had singed and burned hair, no noticeable eyebrows or lashes, George's nose was bleeding from a cut on its bridge, and his slacks legs were tattered. I couldn't hear a darn thing except popping noises in my right ear, and nothing with my left. George and Glen were moving their lips, but I couldn't make out a word; but then, neither could they as we were all temporarily deafened. Here then came running the two male and nameless line supervisors whom had caused the building to be cleared in fear of another explosion. About that time, my right ear popped loudly, hurt like hell, and I could hear again. The two nameless ones assessed the sights, assembled a committee meeting amongst themselves, harumphed a time or two, called we three peons together, and commenced to chew on our asses. Little red haired George was in no mood for any of this, his blood-red face went deep crimson, and he broke in and said something like this, "I can't hear a word you two are yammering, but if it's what I think is, both of you are fixing for an ass whipping. Now get the hell back on your lines and leave me alone".

Glen had already walked away laughing, George was fuming, and I was totally confused but had enough sense to get between our antagonists and George, promising both of them that if George couldn't complete the project of beating their asses, then I would happily do so.

It must have been a very loud explosion, as it was easily heard more than a mile away by a day shift supervisor at his home.

I never did regain complete hearing in either ear, and now am nearly deaf on the left side. I ended up accepting the blame for the unfortunate occurrence, and easily made the first plant-wide layoff. Why? I was a tradesman and could get work anywhere and anytime I wanted it. It wouldn't have been as easy for Glen or George, especially George, because he had no real trade. Glen was a machinist and first class mechanic, but he wasn't quite as independently minded as I. Oh yeah, those were the good old days.

There is more to this sad tale, but this is all care to recall.