Monday, February 17, 2014

Double "O" Seven and Two Thirds

It's funny what jogs your memory.  It's also funny that my memory is the only thing that jogs in the area of my body.

Two days ago I was out for a significant walk.  My entire family is raising money to go on a trip to San Francisco by delivering flyers for a real estate agent in our free time.  Yes, we are those guys.  Luckily the flyers we deliver are more like newsletters and, even more luck, a lot of people actually enjoy getting them. The trip isn't to see the city...especially since we live less than an hour from there and raising money to make that drive would be the equivalent of not going out to dinner once or twice a month.  Our fund raising isn't about gas money...it's about feeding the homeless, working with the poor, and spending our spring vacation doing something other than catching up on shows we've taped (excuse me...DVR'd...my age is showing). We get a few cents per flyer and we manage to do a few hundred a month.  We won't be eating caviar in the city...but it helps pay for the program we are visiting.  I suppose, if you wanted to help fund the trip for the church group we are taking with us, I could give you the donation information if you sent me an email.  But I am not writing to ask you for money.  Seriously, I am writing to try to make you laugh.

Sylvia and I were out this last Saturday for a few hours while we delivered our flyers.  It is always nice to get out and get some exercise while we make the rounds.  We also get to see some interesting things. I have seen a statue of a giant pair of feet on someone's front yard.  I have also seen hoarders next door to landscaping enthusiasts.  I have seen new fences being built and old ones being held up with wire.  I have seen decorations from former careers in the railroad industry (at least I hope they were in that industry and didn't just take a switch from some unsuspecting railroad...I better call Homeland Security)  There have been some interesting things that cross our paths while we are out and about (that's oot and aboot for our friends to the north, eh)  The one thing I chose to write about this morning...a make-up mirror.

Just in case you are wondering, or worried if your house happens to be on our route, all of these things I've seen have been in plain view and essentially on display in the front yards.  I don't go poking around in others' business and I am hoping that the people who deliver to me do the same.  I don't even look in windows as I walk up the entry ways.  I wouldn't want to be rude.  The one exception to this rule is the make-up mirror.  It wasn't on the lawn, it was high up in what I am assuming was one of those tiny little windows that people have in some bathrooms.  The reasons I noticed it were two-fold.  One, it caught the sun.  And two, it reminded me of Craig.

Craig and I go way back.  I would venture to say that he is my oldest friend.  And, while he caked it on pretty good while he was in acting classes in college, I am fairly certain he didn't regularly wear make-up. The mirror in question belonged to his mom.  It also wasn't just a mirror.  This one, and the one that I saw in the window, was one of those concave types that magnify the image and make you gasp a little when you first look into it.  (That may not be a fair representation considering that I gasp a little no matter what mirror I look in...but I digress)  You know the type.  They are usually on a flexible arm and can be used to do any number of activities that require fine detail.

The only reason I know that Craig's mom had one of these mirrors is because his family was kind enough to take me camping.  Burney Falls.  Northern California.  If you haven't been...bucket list that place.  Leave your mirror at home.  I have many fond memories of that place and those trips and I am sure more stories will wiggle their way into the blog as time passes but don't let me get sidetracked today.

One thing about Burney Falls is that it is located about two and a half meters from the sun.  In the summer most of your activities involve finding water, finding shade, and finding soft serve ice-cream that lasts more than two seconds before becoming a sticky puddle at your feet.  We would hike, fish, swim, climb rocks, see signs to watch out for rattlesnakes under the rocks, get off the rocks...it was fun.  We found a mountain of piled obsidian and cave that was so protected that it had a frozen pond in it even though the temperature outside was well over a hundred.  We always kept ourselves busy.

As we returned from one adventure we noticed that his dad's truck was full of smoke.  Unusual to say the least.  Craig ran over, opened the door and the smoke cleared.  There was no electrical problem.  There weren't any lit cigars.  No Rastafarians had visited.  There was just a lot of thick white smoke.  It soon became clear (pun intended) that Craig's mom had inadvertently been the cause of all the smoke.  I imagine, in order to find a comfortable place to sit, a little privacy, and enough light to do what needed to be done, she had put this make-up mirror on the dashboard of the truck.  When she was done, since we weren't driving anywhere soon, she left it there.  As the sun rolled across the sky it became perfectly aligned to the mirror and the resulting ray of light, focused by the curved lens, started traveling across the door panel.  It didn't start a flame, but it did burn.  The interesting thing (as if this wasn't already riveting!) is that the motion of the Earth caused this beam of focused light to travel down the side of the door panel.  If I remember correctly it ended up being a few inches long before we noticed the smoke.

Well, that is the official version of what happened.  I have my own theory that Craig's mom was really a spy and, since we were camping, and didn't have time go get her laser that she would have used to dispatch her enemies by slowly cutting them in half, she did the best she could using the items she had on hand.  Of course  at the time I didn't see the secret agent belted into the cab of the truck, she's too good of a spy for that to happen, but I have my suspicions.  Also, on the way home, she just had to "run in" to a super secret nuclear research lab to pick up a cup of uranium...but I'm sure it was just a coincidence.

So that's it.  Seeing a little mirror in a window some thirty five years later served as a doorway into a fun memory.  That little dark burn line stayed on the door panel of their truck for as long as they owned the truck.  It was, to me, a constant reminder of the lesson learned that day...Don't mess with Mrs. K!

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