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This Post is not Microwave Safe

November 24, 2009
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J.D.’s favorite thing about living here in this real live house is the man cave: A fully equipped shop in the bowels of the house with plywood and power tools and…that is the extent of my shop jargon.

J.D. and the shop have given birth to three carbon based projects.

1)A baby gate for the top of the stairs that is not actually screwed into anything. Oh hi Child Safety Standards officer!

2) A large “art” table which he built for my birthday. The idea of an art table sounded wonderful and romantic – a place to spend hours pouring my soul onto a canvas. Then James reminded me that there is no such thing as “hours” spent on one activity anymore.

Minutes, yes.

So now I pour my soul for two and a half minutes once or twice a week. Feels good.

3) A tooth brush holder. This was the bi-product of an “exchange of strong words” between us. J.D. retreated to the man cave and things whirred and buzzed down there for about a half an hour. Then he resurfaced with a toothbrush holder. J.D. is extremely productive when he’s mad. If I ever need the kitchen cleaned in an efficient manner, I just have to say something inflammatory. Oh hi, marriage counselor!

So J.D. tried his hand at woodworking but his true passion lies with wire and resistors and…that is the extent of my electronics jargon.

Every now and then, after hours of coding, he calls me down to the man cave and gets me to hold two wires together and then a little bulb lights up or a something starts to buzz in the key of C.

The other day the microwave stopped shooting microwaves and J.D. said, all nonchalantly, “I’ll take a look at it,” but I KNOW he’s been dying to rip that thing open since we moved in.

He opened her up, performed a series of diagnostic procedures and then sent the homeowners an email that mentioned fuses and thermal protectors and control circuitry and magnetrons. I’m pretty sure these people are traveling in a third world country right now cooking their meals on open fires. They wrote back telling him not to worry about fixing it, which translated into permission to take the whole unit apart.

Every night J.D. descends to work on the microwave and casually requests that I check on him every half hour to make sure he hasn’t been electrocuted to death. “You won’t hear me scream, just so you know.”

For my next birthday, I am expecting some kind of gift that blinks and pours microwaves into my soul.

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6 Comments leave one →
  1. Jaelyn permalink
    November 24, 2009 5:12 pm

    That scares me to death! Make him stop it and I will send you money for a new microwave!!!!!!

    • J.D. permalink
      December 18, 2009 9:31 am

      Really?!

      Hey… I’ve also been dangerously tinkering with the innards of our laptop… and car. Just so you know.

  2. Jean permalink
    November 25, 2009 11:19 am

    I thought I saw a faraway look in JD’s eyes when we were describing our efforts to find a way to baffle a generator. Maybe he was thinking we could stick it inside a microwave. It was the same gleam he got years ago when he and Charlie had this terrific idea for a new kind of toilet.

    • J.D. permalink
      December 18, 2009 9:24 am

      That toilet WAS a terrific idea… unfortunately already invented, produced, and distributed. Independent realization of pre-existing brilliant ideas is bittersweet. On one hand, you were able to go through the same though processes that made & make someone else rich and clever. On the other hand… anything other than first – when it comes to ideas – is last place.

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