Dear Wally #57 Sleepless in Seattle

Dear Wally- I don’t have a question for you. Just wanted to say hi from the West Coast been up most of the night.

-Cousin Bubba

Hey Sleepless in Seattle Bubba! - Been thinking of you constantly this last week as I hump enormo 2x12x20’ notched Doug fir roof rafters up to their glorious (and final!!) 18' height on my construction project. It’s been a long journey for these rafters from the Pacific Northwest (your home) to my home (The Hudson Valley). If they could emote, I wonder if some of these reddish hued thugs would feel happy to be here on the east coast. Soon they will sag under the constant load of snow—an unrelenting force to which they are not accustomed. I never noticed how sweet they smell when they are cut. You are a fine home builder so you know the fresh cut, gummy, sweetness of which I speak. Normally I just catch a whiff around Christmas time.

You also know the joy of right angles and plumb walls, contrary conditions we humans force on nature—nature which then mocks our demands with no consistent offerings of such irrelevant things as 90 degree angles or perfectly straight lines. Even our horizons are not what they seem—just try to get to the horizon and set your level on it!

I wish you were here pooh poohing me for pooh poohing the 6' level (and all it stands for). Jeff , the crew leader, however, is more of your ‘quality and precision’ school and won't give me an inch (or even an 1/8th of an inch over a 16' span). Bastard. So together we make a good team. Well actually, by himself he makes a perfectly good team. I’m just along for the ride and trying to stay out of his way. Tomorrow we sheath the roof. Keeping mother nature out, despite our attempts with windows and skylights to let her back in. I wouldn’t fault her if she felt she was getting mixed messages.
Been using Jeff's pneumatic framing gun and the beer-soaked, gruff, conclusions of Rusty (my other cousin, the ER doctor) ring loudly in my ear- "Anyone who owns a nail gun will eventually be my bitch.”
The first time I pulled the trigger the damn thing took off spraying 4” spikes in all directions. With me attached. I think there was a safety latch missing. Jeff ran for cover and rightly so. I think all the hunters around though I had jumped the gun, so to speak, on deer season. I might have even gotten a deer for all I know. I felt like a prohibition era gangsta coping a squat with a Tommy gun and trying to take out another pinstriped gangsta. Rat-a-tat-a-tat! This nail gun is not a tool for weekend warriors, especially ones with itchy fingers. I know you are laughing from your bed at this image of me only partially in control and I hope this expenditure of energy doesn’t set you back.I still have my kneecaps (where the nail gun hangs from my belt) so that's good. I love my kneecaps and use them every day. But crap, a couple of perpendicular 2x4s over my shoulder combined with an accidental trigger touch and it could be an unwitting, modern day crucifixion inside of 4 seconds. Well, we all have our crosses to bear. I guess mine are 2x4s right now. I know you wish yours were, too.I wish you were here scampering around on fresh lumber, yelling at me to do this or not do that, not showing your skinny backside to the hospital staff through that rear entry gown I’m sure you refuse on principle to cinch up. Are you making the sick people on your hall laugh? I bet they love you.

Save me some of that anti nausea medication- I just got my tax bill and am feeling a little woozy. I also wish I could turn this nail gun on your cancer, one cell at a time if necessary. This thing fires 280 rounds a minute. How long could it take?

Well, tell those transplanted stem cells to do what they have to do to get you better and back to your 4 kids Jess, Zach, Sarah, and Sammy (and wife Kate) who miss you and wish, as I do, that you were prancing around your garden with them instead of fighting Lymphoma for your life at 43 in an airtight room with right angles and plumb walls (and maybe doug fir rafters).

-Love,

Cousin Wally

Ps- get some sleep.


Got a question for our advice columnist or just want a picture of his cousin’s hospital gown? Email him at cwn4@aol.com.