Mar 202017
 

Thanks to the ceaseless efforts of diligent safety advocates, the day-to-day threat of getting squished has gone steadily down my entire life.

I mean, there was something character-building about getting one of your fingers mashed in a car’s power window, wasn’t there? Now, most of the windows just meekly retreat if they meet the slightest resistance. And there was magic in slamming your fingers in the car door. I suppose that’s still possible, but it’s not like it used to be. My dad was restoring a ’67 Cadillac convertible one summer when I was about nine. I was out “helping” him, and managed to close the passenger door with my left hand whilst holding the side of the windshield frame with my right hand.

That was a special moment, looking up at my fingers being mashed between the windshield and that 300-lb. door and feeling that exquisite agony. It’s what I think of whenever I consider relativity. My fingers were probably in there a grand total of one second, but in my memory I looked at them for at least ten.

Cars are just as heavy as they ever were—even more so—but car doors don’t needlessly weigh several hundred pounds anymore.

My favorite was the garage door. I used to love hitting the button from the back of the garage and then seeing how closely I could cut it getting out. Sometimes I wouldn’t be in the mood and would begin walking briskly as soon as the descent began…but other times it was on, baby. I’d let it get a third down, then halfway down, then usually a little past before taking off and rolling under it, imagining that I was just narrowly escaping the certain death of the multi-ton door crushing me between itself and the concrete like a rotten peach.

Now, you cross that little laser beam, and the door just goes back up.

I suppose there is still some game in trying to get out between the closing door and the beam, but with the threat of bodily injury so remote, the experience just doesn’t have that spark anymore.

 Posted by at 10:47 am
Mar 172017
 

I’ve been kidding myself all day thinking I wouldn’t, but I finally just said “how could I not blog about Sherry Frost today?”

Sherry Frost is Mrs. Chili, who longtime readers may recall visited Saintseester and me for a weekend, just about nine years ago as I type. We were fast online friends, and Sherry, ‘seester, and I decided we’d split Sherry’s airfare so we could hang out in person. It was a great weekend, and I hated to see it end.

Sherry Frost is also now a New Hampshire state representative, having claimed the uncontested seat in December. She’s been in the news several times since, most recently for tweeting she felt “homicidal” after men told her to “calm down.” Her Twitter feed is here.

(This is consistent not with the person(a?) for whom I built such affection, but with the person she eventually revealed herself to me to be.) Her behavior at the end of our relationship was viciously hateful, and I compounded my own pain by trying to save it for too long.

As heinously as Sherry behaved, I was never interested in thrashing through the fallout of our severed friendship on BoWilliams.com. I’m still not. I’m fascinated, however, that she’s backed into a position of some prominence—a place from which she could, ostensibly, advance her stated objectives, were she able to maintain some decorum—and she’s instead reverted to form.

“I always wondered what would happen if her blog persona escaped into our dimension.” – Saintseester

I would hate to think Sherry will be lionized for this shrieking hysteria, but these days you just can’t tell. Hey, she has a 2017 BoWilliams.com post about her now, so did I just aggravate the problem?

 Posted by at 3:42 pm
Mar 122017
 

We had our season-end, and program-end, celebration for Upward basketball and cheerleading yesterday. Kevin Davis of Kevin Davis Creations came in and did a fantastic job again for us this year. He is a funny fellow who relates well to children and loves God. He was also accommodating of our modest budget. I recommend him. […]

 Posted by at 7:54 am

BoWilliams.com is using WP-Gravatar