Avalon mentioned my “fix it” prowess the other day in a seperate thread. It is clear to me and many others that I will never make it as an electrician if this finance gig doesn’t pan out. As a multitude of TBPers have built their own houses, done their own plumbing, and fix their own cars, I most certainly do not fall into the category of handy.
But, the rumors that this is my pool, are unfounded. Even I couldn’t be that stupid. Or could I?
Episode #1 – The Mystery of the Ringing Doorbell
When my son Jimmy was 2 or 3 years old he was a royal terror. Every day seemed like a death match between him and the world. It was essential that he take his 2 or 3 hour nap in the afternoon so everyone could get a break. Kevin was 6 or 7 years old and his little friends would ring our doorbell all day long for him to come out and play. Every time the doorbell would ring, Jimmy would wake up from his nap and begin terrorizing the household. Avalon could have put up this sign:
Instead Avalon eventually asked her Dad to disconnect the doorbell until Jimmy grew up. A few years went by and there were no longer naps needed in the Quinn household. Avalon said we could reconnect the doorbell. Simple enough, I thought. I took the cover off the doorbell unit on the wall and there were wires everywhere. I had no idea which wires went where, so I guessed and rehooked them. I got off the ladder and pushed the doorbell. It worked. Case closed. Another household job handled by the multi-dimensional Administrator.
At 1:00 am that night, I was awoken by the doorbell ringing. I thought WTF in my stupor. I stumbled down the stairs to see who would be at the door at 1:00 am. To my chagrin, no one was there. I went back up to bed. At 2:00 am the doorbell rang again. I started cursing and accusing kids in the neighborhood of pulling a prank. But, there were no kids in sight. The freaking doorbell was ringing itself whenever it felt like it. It went on all night periodically waking me up.
In the morning I went downstairs and it smelled like something was burning. It was the doorbell unit. I had evidently put the wrong wires in the wrong spots and short-circuited the whole thing. I disconnected it before it burst into flames and to this day, our doorbell does not work.
But this is just a warm-up for my all-time doozy. My Chevy Chase Moment.
Episode #2 – This Isn’t a Live Wire, Is It?
Shortly after moving into our house in 1995 I noticed that a bunch of other houses in the neighborhood had attic fans on their roof. It sounded like a good idea to cheaply cool off the house. We hired a guy to install it. He did all the work and it worked automatically when the temperature reached a certain level. After about a year, it stopped working. We never got it fixed. I just forgot about it.
It was February 2003 and I left for a week long trip to Oxford University in the UK while working for IKEA. While I was away a 24 inch blizzard hit Phila.
After a 12 hour ordeal getting home, I walk into the house to a bucket up in the hallway catching the dripping water from the ceiling. It seems that the wind was so intense that it blew the snow up through the attic fan and into the attic where it was melting. I was tired and pissed off. We have a tiny hole in the kids closet where you can shimy into the attic. I went up there with a bucket and a shovel to get rid of the snow. I was not a happy camper.
I vowed to block off the attic fan hole the next day. I got a big hunk of wood, wood screws and my drill and headed up into the attic. There is no light, so Avalon was on the ladder with a flashlight shining it where I needed to cover the fan. I started my project and realized there was a pesky wire leading to the attic fan. This wire was blocking me from covering the fan properly. Being a dumbass accountant, my mind told me that since the fan hadn’t worked since 1997, there was no electricity running through the wire. I told Avalon to get me my wire cutters. You might have an idea of what happened next.
As Avalon held the flashlight I cut into a live wire. A shocking development as the electricity in the whole house blew out. The only reason I’m here today is the wire cutters had rubber grips. I dropped the wire cutters and luckily didn’t step off the beam I was balanced on and fall through the ceiling ala Chevy Chase in Christmas Vacation.
Now you know how I almost killed myself and why I pay to have all my electrical work done.
Have any of you almost killed yourself due to carelessness, stupidity, or hubris?
