My new home in Georgia has eight smoke detectors. This is six more than I had in my California home. These eight smoke detectors are located on 15 foot ceilings. Now you might ask, gentle reader, how do I know how high the ceilings are and how many smoke detectors I have. The answer is simple. About 1:00 AM on the first night in our home, the day before the furniture arrived, the battery failed in the smoke detector in the second bedroom. In order to tell me that it was failing, it emitted a three-second beep every minute or so (again…at 1:00 in the morning). Yup, fate was daring me to find the failing device in the darken house. Keep in mind that all of this occurred before my furniture arrived. Since I’d paid no real attention to the location of the detectors before, it was only appropriate that I’d try to locate the failing device by listening for a three-second beep in a sleep deprived state. So I wandered my dark house trying to find the darn thing. Needless to say, that first night in the house was not necessarily the one that I’d envisioned. The next day, before the furniture arrived, I had to go to Home Depot and buy a ladder tall enough to allow me to reach the ceiling and batteries to replace the battery that had failed in that smoke detector. And to answer the unasked questions: – yes, I brought enough batteries to replace all the batteries in the eight detectors and no – I haven’t replaced the other seven yet.
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Regardless of what any man may tell you, he is always concerned about his appearance and how he looks. There are few people who a man will trust more than his barber. I, for one, prefer not to get my hair cut at the big franchise chains like Supercuts or Sports Cuts. I don’t have anything against these shops, it’s just that I’m looking for a more personal and sustainable relationship with one person who will want to help me look my best. As a matter of record, in the past 25 years, I’ve had two barbers. The first one was for 20 years (until he retired) and the second one for five years. Like I said, I’m looking for a long-term relationship.
In the black community, barber shops are often a center for male bonding, just like churches are centers for family bonding. The long and short of this post is that I have found a barbershop (and a barber (Cedric)) that does a fairly decent job of cutting my hair. With this relationship in place, this place is beginning to feel a lot like home.
Now these were good, funny reads! Keep them coming. I’m glad you found your barber, I’m sure if I had hair still I would feel the same.
Thanks for reading, Jose. Generally (but not always), the more serious stuff is on Tuesday and the fluff is on Friday. Again, thanks for the comment and reading. 🙂
Now these were good, funny reads! Keep them coming. I’m glad you found your barber, I’m sure if I had hair still I would feel the same.
Oh, lord. That’s happened to me a few times with my Omaha apartment (two detectors), and of course they’re up wayyyyy high. And to make matters worse, the apartment managers strongly discourage tenants from “taking matters into their own hands”, probably because, again, these things are really high up. It galls me to have to call when a light bulb has to be replaced, let me tell you.
In these instances…well, I’m 52 and I need my sleep. I got my super-stepstool and manged to remove the batteries. Called the office the next morning and told them what I’d done; apparently this happens a lot, because they were highly amused.
That night I wasn’t able to remove the battery, but I swear if I’d had a gun, I would have shot the darn thing. Thanks for reading. It’s nice to know that it happens to others as well.