A Man’s Place is Under the Sink

2011 Winter Quarterly Fundraiser, Day Four

Just before dinner last night Dymphna summoned me downstairs to address an emergency in the kitchen: a plumbing leak under the sink. She caught it early, and the amount of water that had escaped was minimal.

Unfortunately for our family, I am not at all handy around the house. If it goes beyond duct tape or a hammer and a nail, I’m not much good at it. In fact, the nail will likely be hammered in crooked. I’m hopeless at anything that requires real skill — if the problem can’t be solved by a combination of common sense and jury-rigging, a professional has to be called in.

Fortunately for Schloss Bodissey, last night’s plumbing caper was within my range. The sink trap had gradually been pushed back and eventually popped the joint on the connecting pipe above it. Fixing drain pipes is like rewiring a lamp — a bit of thinking and a minimum of skill, and the problem is solved. Especially when PVC pipe is involved.

While I was under the sink, I was strongly reminded of our relatively recently straitened circumstances, which require that we avoid calling a plumber (or other professional) if at all possible. This hearkens back to the time when I was an artist, back when we were really poor — having to call a plumber in those days constituted a major financial disaster. I remember lying on my back in a pool of freezing water behind the bathtub one night about thirty years ago, when the pipes froze and burst during a vicious cold snap. Pipe wrench, crowbar, screwdriver, pipe dope — I don’t want to go through any of that again if I can possibly avoid it.

For a few years, while I was programming for a living, all of that changed. We could afford a plumber whenever we needed one, no problem! What a luxury.

Our plumber of choice is a woman, a tough burly country girl who runs her own business out of a pickup truck. If I were a real man, I could never call in a female plumber, or risk losing my Testosterone Certificate. But I don’t care — she’s easygoing and competent, and I love to talk to her while she lies on her back under the sink in a pool of water.

But not these days, not if I can help it. Hard times are upon us once again.

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Hard times are upon everyone else, too, it seems.

We’re getting a lot of donations this fundraiser, possibly even as many as we usually do. But the amounts tend to be modest these days — everyone’s pocketbook is a lot slimmer than it was a few years ago.

It’s deeply inspiring to realize how willing people are to share what little they have with the Counterjihad cause. For that we are eternally grateful.

Yesterday’s contributors checked in from these places:

Stateside:

California, Florida, Illinois, Indiana, Minnesota, Montana, New York, and Pennsylvania

Far Abroad:

Australia, Ireland, Italy, and the UK

Thank you all for your ongoing generosity.


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