Cutting Through The Crap

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Jacking



Summers in high school and college I spent working construction. One job was on a crew clearing a right-of-way through a forest (for a sewer, if you must know.) Waiting to buck up (ie, chop off the limbs, then cut the tree into lengths with a prodigious chain saw) the big Doug firs that the CAT driver pushed down, I obsessively sharpened my honkin' double-edged axe. Having achieved surgical sharpness, I'd occasionally use it to whittle, a not particularly bright idea, given the unwieldy size of the axe.

And so it was that I zipped the axe, held in my right hand, dangerously by my left thumb, wrapped as it was around the object d' whittle. Hmm, I thought. Guy could cut himself doing something like that. So I did it again. And did. Got the extensor pollicus longus tendon, although not all the way through.

I consider it one of the stupider (although less consequential) things I've done; but had I been a Republican Congressman, it'd been even worse. In that case, I'd have cut my thumb on the first swipe, looked at it, and as the blood flowed (pretty briskly, as I recall), I'd have said, "Hmm," and DONE IT AGAIN.

On a belated note, it seems John McCain is getting around to figuring out his economic policies. Just in the nick of time.

8 comments:

Frank Drackman said...

And if you were a DEMOCRAT Congressman you'd have a Gay Gigolo run a Call Boy Service out of your Basement... And don't give me any of that Larry Craig crap...at least he had the decency to go away...I keep waiting for Barney Fa.. Frank to float away like a friggin helium baloon...
Be honest, he's gotta embarass you..
Frank

Sid Schwab said...

Sorry, Frank, but I'm not threatened by gays the way you are. Not that, once again, your comment has anything to do with my post.

rochesterchiro said...

It's not like you were going to need those hands for anything important later in life.

Reminds me of a collegue who, while in school, was somehow convinced to help relocate baby alligators in the bayou. The project involved sneaking up on the gators and scooping them out of the water by hand and putting them in the boat. One gator got out of his grip -- many, many stitches later, he was still able to use the hand.

I know this is not the point of your post but I don't wax political...all I can do is provide is similar injury stories.

Leigh said...

Nah, Frank, we're proud of ole Barney. He's a tough little bastard.

And may I say, it's a GOOD thing that our folks know which way they swing and aren't shy about saying so. Upfront and honest about it, that's our motto. We're not the party of self-hating closeted gays. We leave that sick crap to the Republicans and Religious Right preachers.

I love the Lumberjack song, Sid, but I think that this is at least as appropriate for your "flesh wound".

Leigh said...

Can't wait to see what McCain's "ten principles" will be. All we have to do then is . . . just the opposite . . . to achieve success. Easy-peasy!

It's a flat dab wonder that you came through the forest with enough functioning digits to be surgeon. My family in East Texas has been doing that kind of work for years, and we're short a good many fingers because of it. Fortunately none of us are violinists, weavers, or surgeons . . .

Frank Drackman said...

Bla Bla Bla, but would you take a Blood Transfusion from Barney?? assuming compatible Type and Cross?? Sure you would, as old as you are Sid, you never had a patient die of Transfusion Aquired Hivie??

Frank

Sili said...

You have the patience of a saint in re Frank. If at least he was a funny troll, but no such luck ...

Were you able to play the piano afterwards?

(vv: menchype - an overrated humanist.)

Sid Schwab said...

Well, the thing about Frank is that he's about a two-trick pony. Virtually every "point" (and the word imputes a higher level of discourse than is warranted) he makes he's made before; and before that; and before that. "Would you take blood from Barney Frank?" Asked several times in the past, answered at least once. Same for the rest of it.

Maybe it's all the gases he sniffs. Whatever the reason, he's saying the same things over and over, which is why I don't respond very much any more. Makes it easier.