 He always has a project going, too. Like any redneck worth his salt,
he'd like to buy an old car and "trick it out." But his Bill Nye
side kicks in at the oddest moments. His idea of tricking out a car
means putting solar panels on the roof and figuring out how to make
it fly.Last weekend, while I was away, he decided the kids should
have a tire swing in the backyard. It was apparently also a good day
to use his chain saw. The redneck in him took out his chain saw,
found a branch about a hundred feet in the air and gleefully cut
down every tree that stood under that branch. One of them was the
only flowering tree on our lot, which, of course, I will never
forgive him for.
Only after he had cut down those trees did the Bill Nye side kick
in, and he realized he had no way to get a rope up that high and tie
it to the tree. He was envisioning a Tarzan vine, I guess. The Bill
Nye side was saying, "The longer the rope, the farther the kids can
swing." But the redneck side just wanted to cut down some trees.
When I arrived home and saw the carnage, I was ... less than
pleased. I understood that he was doing a kindness for his children,
but I also recognized his need for an excuse to use his chain saw.
Before we even had a chance to buy the rope, he showed me another
project he'd been working on in his shop. It was, of course, part
genius, part redneck. Made of 5 feet of PVC drainage pipe, a door
handle and an electronic switch, he had made a potato cannon.
Being neither a genius nor a redneck, I looked at him blankly and
asked, "What's it for?"
"Well, it's for shooting potatoes, of course."
[to top of second column] |
 Now, I wasn't so dense that I didn't realize that a potato cannon
would, in all likelihood, turn a potato into a projectile. My
question was meant to determine what need we would have for a flying
potato.
As I watched, he held the giant drainage pipe on his shoulder
like a bazooka, sprayed hair spray into the cylinder, closed it, and
pushed the switch. It made a boom like you'd hear in a Fourth of
July fireworks display, only louder since we were standing right
next to it.
I saw the potato come flying out of the end, followed by a 2-foot
column of flames. It raced over the tops of the trees and was gone
from sight.
Somewhere in the next county, it was raining potatoes ... clearly
an unusual event.
My husband stood there with his mouth open and slowly lowered his
ballistic potato gizmo. I stared at him, dumbfounded.
Bill Nye said, "Whoa! I didn't think it would work that well." I
just stood there, too stunned to speak.
"But," the redneck exclaimed brightly, "I think I may have found
a way to get a rope up that tree after all!"
[By LAURA SNYDER]
You can reach Laura at
lsnyder@lauraonlife.com
or visit www.lauraonlife.com
for more columns and info about her new book. |
