An Inauspicious Start

There are few things that I enjoy more than being left home alone.  In fact, I’m not entirely sure there is ANYTHING I like more than being left home alone.  Of course it’s probably a tossup between that and sex, but rest assured, it’s a close call.  Sex by no means runs away with it.  I may actually choose to be home alone over sex. 

But with no job, and with the boys home on summer break since early June there has been VERY LITTLE “home alone time” this summer.  In fact over the last couple of months I have been both an assistant little league coach as well as a summer league head coach which simply has further reduced my opportunities to have any home alone time.  What little time there has been to be home alone I’ve pretty much spent out on a baseball field with 11-year old boys. 

So when my wife informed me that she was taking the boys to Colorado for her grandmother’s funeral (the woman was 93-years old and died peacefully in her sleep – we should all be so lucky) I certainly didn’t object.  Hell I had all three of them packed within an hour of getting the call.  I was going to have four days and three nights all to myself. 

Suddenly all my worries and concerns were gone.  There was a spring to my step.  I found myself laughing more.  I gladly accommodated my younger son and answered some of his daily 9,000 questions.  I did not pester my wife for sex (well not in the last 48 hours at least – come on).  I allowed my older son to download a couple of songs on my iTunes account.  I was not an unemployed 39-year old with a stiff elbow and a receding hairline.  Oh no, I was a 27-year old CEO with a strong body and a full head of hair. 

Bring on the 96-hours of freedom.  Bring on the Zebra cakes.  Bring on the late nights and even later mornings.  Bring on the silly, pointless movies that my wife would never in a million years see in the theater.  Bring on the pizzas. 

I’ve got four days.

Go.

The dog and I turned the corner to start the walk back to the house and that’s when I noticed the older woman standing on the sidewalk looking at me.  She was by no means screaming or jumping up and down, but she was waving at me.  She was definitely trying to get my attention and I figured that she simply wanted me to reel in the dog (who was 20’ out in front of me – the dog doesn’t “do” heel – he just does “pull really hard”).  So I pulled the dog in, and continued to walk towards her.

But when I got to her she stopped me and told me that her husband was inside the house dying.  This was not what I wanted to hear for a number of different reasons not the least of which was I had decided to hold off on taking the Browns to the Super Bowl until after the walk and I was officially at the point where I needed the walk to end. 

However, I tied the dog to a tree and headed inside afraid of what I might find. 

Sure enough, there inside was a very sick looking dude in bed not moving.  So I grabbed her phone to dial 911 and it wasn’t working. 

I asked her if she had knocked on the neighbor’s door and she said that she had and that they were not home.  Since I was literally a couple hundred yards from my house I told her I’d be right back and took off to get my cell phone.  Flew in, got the cell phone and ran as fast as I could back.  I dialed 911, and within minutes the entire Northbrook fire department pulled up.  Unfortunately I was so winded from my two minute sprint that the paramedics initially thought that I was the one who needed help.  On a side note, this does not bode well for my three-day, 200-mile bike trip that starts this Saturday.  I apparently cannot run the length of two football fields without the paramedics being worried about me.  Not impressive.

I stuck around long enough to explain to the paramedics my whole role in this ordeal, and for the neighbors to get home and complain about the dog tied to their tree that was ruining their ground cover.  Despite having a fire truck, an ambulance and a police car in front of their house these people were much more concerned about my dog and their ground cover.  Lovely people.  What’s that old saying. . . . you can’t choose your neighbors?  Wow. 

Pretty much my day in a nutshell. 

However, I’m assuming you have a number of questions.  Let me see if I can help:

How is the guy?  I can’t say for sure, but he was sitting up in bed and alert when I left.  He had four different paramedics working on him.  I’d like to assume that he’s okay.

Why didn’t these people have a phone?   Well they did have a phone, but it wasn’t working, and obviously I have no idea why, but if I were to offer them advice it would be to get a cell phone as back-up or at the very least one of those “life alert” things that you see on TV.

Who were these neighbors of theirs?  No idea.  Just glad that they’re not mine. 

Will I offer to pay for whatever ground cover my dog destroyed?  Don’t be silly, as soon as it gets dark I’m going to go back over and drop a #2 on their precious ground cover.

Was I able to sit on my couch and watch TV in my empty house?  I knew you’d be concerned about that, and the answer is yes.  I was able to squeeze in a viewing of Tommy Boy (36^th viewing lifetime).

Could more strange things happen tomorrow?  Yes, but I’m not planning on leaving the house so that should help limit the potential.  The dog can go out in the backyard.