Surviving Home Ownership
The Lazy Bucket
An Epic Tale of Life in the Slow Lane
Away up North, where the Huskies bite, and heating systems are quite important, people live in homes supported by something called a basement. Its main purpose is to accommodate furnaces and heating ducts, or at least that was the case before we all received incredibly-reasonably-priced electricity from benevolent capitalists.
While purportedly a means to enable heating, the real purpose of a basement is to collect junk. A basement is a storage space, particularly well adapted for items that prefer dark and damp environments. Regardless, things get themselves down there when out of favor or not currently in use. But only if they have potential for future use, of course.
Often, tools are retrieved from the downstairs dungeon to make some home improvements. In one such instance, a hammer and a nail were brought up so that a priceless piece (it was a gift, so there was no price) of artwork could be hung for all to see.
Nail in the wall, and artwork on display, the hammer could be left out in the living space for all to marvel at the handiness of the homeowner, or immediately returned to its proper location in the basement.
But if the homeowner is not a braggart, returning the tool to its rightful space requires a second descent and ascent. Pressing affairs of daily living often dictate a deferred replacement schedule, so leaving the tool on the top step behind the door postpones the return until the next time something is required from the basement.
Top step space near the door hinge is not unlimited, and ups and downs are often inconvenient. This and that will pile up while waiting to return to the depths. One really can’t have screwdrivers, tape measures, and fasteners piling up and rolling out into the tread space, so some restraint must be provided.
The “Lazy Bucket” fills the bill.
It sits on the top step, adjacent to the door hinge where it is never a safety hazard, and gathers all the flotsam and jetsam that doesn’t quite get home. And if it’s metal, it also provides a satisfying “Clang!” when a solid object is dropped in from waist height.
But a hammer needs to be set gently into the bucket.
I opened the basement door and bent over to insert the hammer, head facing down the steps.
At that moment, my wife needed to get through the narrow hallway which was blocked by the open door. To get by, she reached for the door and partially closed it. The door struck my gluteus maximus, and my eyes opened wide as my focus changed from the bucket to the landing area at the bottom of the steps.
Thank goodness she works out constantly to remain thin enough to get through tight spaces. I shudder to think what could have happened if she maintained a few more millimeters of girth.
It’s surprising how far forward the center of gravity moves when bent over.
The unexpected nudge activated an autonomous survival response in opposition. Muscles controlling toes, legs, and core contracted madly as I teetered on the edge. I was so close to going down that the glutes also tightened forcefully so that the smallest propulsional flatulence could not escape.
I imagined being launched off the top of the stairway, over the steps to a hard landing at the bottom. A skilled gymnast might execute a forward flip and stick the landing with both feet, subsequently raising arms and acknowledging the applause from the audience. That sequence was not what my mind predicted.
I might have kicked the bucket.
Without cat-like (OK, maybe dog. Old dog.) reflexes, my wife’s workouts, and dumb luck, I’d have been launched in the style of Wile E. Coyote. (Cue puff of dust upon landing.)
Proper Lazy Bucket technique, which will be used henceforth, is to take at least one step down and face the bucket. Then the item can be safely inserted. A two-step descent, fully eliminating the possibility of door-to-glutes propulsion, is recommended.
I related what had happened to my wife. She was completely unaware of my close call and barely avoided catastrophic outcome.
“Oh, that might have been terrible,” she said.
“Might have been…? I pondered. Might?!”
Hmmm… Was she thinking that my amazing physical abilities would have allowed a gymnastic recovery, or was it that successfully surviving the fall was the issue?
Regardless, it’s time to review the finances. I need to figure out if I’m worth more dead or alive.
