Embarrass -verb- cause (someone) to feel awkward, self-conscience, or ashamed.
Is it embarrassing squared when that someone in definition above is oneself? Perhaps, perhaps not, but having embarrassed myself or been party to family’s indiscretions on multiple occasions I can tell you it can sting, at least initially, but if you are willing to laugh at yourself it can be something worthy of retelling many times hence.
So below I relay some memorable recollections.
Story #1: The Washing Machine Incident
I suppose I was ten or eleven when on vacation with my family. It was an unusually long holiday for us, as I believe we’d been away from home for some two weeks. Given this we had exhausted our supply of clean clothing and it was time to wash. There were no machines at our place of lodging, so we ventured out to find a public laundry. In relatively short order we were pulling into paved lot and unloading our dirty garments. The assortment required the use of three machines. For detergent, boxes were dispensed from the coil operated vending unit positioned against the wall. When adding soap, the instructions on the boxes weren’t consulted (I imagine because mom and dad had laundered many times), so they assumed a box per load was an appropriate amount. The coins were placed in the metal tray and pushed forward to start the cycle. At first all proceeded normally, there was the familiar low humming as the motors agitated the baskets. Before long, however, suds began flowing from under the lids, down the front panels, and across the floor—not a few bubbles, but copious quantities. The entire population inhabiting the building paid visit to the unfolding scene, snickering as they walked away. It was hard not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Though the clothes required a second cycle to shed excess detergent, no harm was done, and over the years we repeated the story many times. The moral—read instructions when provided.
Story #2: Boyhood Sling Shot
I believe this occurred when I was of similar age to the above washing machine story…it must have been a banner year for embarrassment. I was intrigued with the idea of throwing a stone a great distance through use of that age old device known as a sling. As you will no doubt conclude after reading this account, if it was my responsibility to dispatch Goliath he would have lived on for many years. When I crafted my device there was no YouTube to consult, so I used my imagination. My selection of materials included long leather boot laces and a patch of leather left behind after my brother had finished a tooling project. I fashioned the patch, punched holes to make way for laces, and fed said laces through. I didn’t practice my throwing technique before loading a substantial smooth rock into the leather saddle I had formed. I started my attempt by swirling the assembly at an ever-quickening pace. Taking careful aim, I tried to set free the stone, but I neglected to properly release the lacing thus the stone flew nowhere and instead smacked my face just beside my nose. It hurt and there was a brief moment when stars appeared before my eyes, yet my first instinct was to look left and right to discern if anyone had observed my ill-fated endeavor. When I determined I was the sole witness, I ran inside and looked in the mirror. Fortunately, no blood flowed, and the only evidence was a red mark which faded with time. I later tried again, but with pebble at low speed—that toss was successful.
Story #3: Jump Start
My old telephone van, which I’ve written about before, once had a problem—it wouldn’t start with the key. I tried a variety of unsuccessful fixes until learning from a passer-by the root cause could be the neutral safety switch. Until my chance meeting with this heaven set mechanic, I was forced to start the vehicle by jumping or shorting two terminals on the solenoid. This worked, but there were several drawbacks; one: it was inconvenient, especially in inclement weather; two: shorting terminals generally produces arcs which isn’t ideal; three: the vehicle will start no matter the shifter’s position. This last matter is what resulted in my moment of embarrassment and almost severe bodily harm. I was to meet a friend at a tavern for a meal. I enjoyed said meal with my friend and prepared to drive home. My van was positioned with the grill facing the establishment’s exterior brick wall. I raised the small hood and prepared to perform the electrical magic. With screwdriver in hand, I made the connection. When I did the vehicle started and lunged forward, I leaped to the side to avoid being crushed between vehicle and wall. A loud thud rang out when the van collided with the red brick surface. I jumped in seat and backed away to survey for damage—nothing observable. As I drove away, I thanked God for saving my life and it was a firm warning that bypassing a safety system it not an advisable approach.
Story #4: The Butter Knife
We’ve all probably seen a loose center screw on an outlet cover. Of course, the safest way to correct this situation is to locate the breaker or fuse so as to disengage power to the circuit, use screwdriver to tighten screw, and reengage the circuit. I have, however, not utilized said approach and instead carefully tightened screw without disengaging power. Well, I was playing in the basement, focused on what my imagination was generating when the lights momentarily flashed, and I heard my grandmother yell—she was upstairs in the kitchen. I ran quickly, taking two treads at a time, to see what had happened. There stood my grandmother, butterknife in hand, and she was laughing so hard she could scarcely describe what had occurred. Her laughter was contagious as it got me laughing, but as I further examined the knife still firmly in her grasp, I noted that the metal was partially melted and discolored. When grandmother caught her breath, she explained that she was trying to tighten the outlet cover screw with the knife when it slipped into the slot meant for prong. She said she saw a golden glow all about her before the blade involuntarily freed itself. Lucky she was unharmed and never tried that technique again. The story still made her laugh when retold in the years thereafter.
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