another V graf

                If  it were anyone else’s  deck I  would probably have rolled on the ground laughing, but it was mine, and all I could do was stand and watch it fall in slow motion, thinking: My wife is gonna kill me.  She had just sprung a week’s pay on a new top for the old Spitfire (oh, yeah, the one that lived under the deck) and I thought I would reciprocate by purchasing the largest grill/smoker/global warmer ever constructed outside a Hollywood set.  My reasoning was sound in that if I could make the deck appear smaller than I could expand it (she balked at the cost) to span the breadth of the driveway and double as a carport to protect our (my) cars.  The cost had just quadrupled.  Luckily, the fall was in slow motion, so there were only compression injuries to the Triumph (except the top had met its demise) and the new grill was still remarkably intact and pristine, just wrong side up.  The deck was toast.  Lesson learned?  You betcha.  I think that in order to fully learn there must be three major factors: A specific motivation or curiosity, a plan of action or experiment, and consequences or results.  That may sound like six, but the three dyads are interchangeable.

                The motivation I had is that I wanted a bigger deck, ergo more space to hide cars from ol’ man winter.  Because my wife (aka the voice of reason) would not be persuaded by words alone, I knew drastic measures were called for.  The more space under cover, the more engines and bike and cars can fit so that some day when I retire I will be able to pay someone a lot of money to haul them away.  This is a sickness I don’t wish on Jeffrey Dahmer.  In the military they say “if it doesn’t move, paint it.”  I say, “if it doesn’t move, roll it under some kind of cover until fishing season’s over” So the deck was a way to get what I wanted but couldn’t have on my stupid no-conforming because my neighbor’s a jerk and will rat me out to the planning board lot:  A garage.

 I purchased the Char Griller Professional Series (CGPS). Because my wife and I are both children of the sixties, we love to cook outside.  This is a trait instilled in us by the children of the forties, and hopefully passed on to the children of the eighties until Darwin says this is now genetic.  If I can fit this on the deck it will appear as if the deck has magically become smaller, and also show off the grandeur of the CGPS.  After a few hours of assembly it fit.  Barely.  There was enough room to sidle by the three very large handles, and if you turned just so the door would open and you could get through, besides that it was a good motivation for diets.  My plan of action had come to fruition.

                I’d like to say I don’t want to talk about the consequences, but that would make this a four graf essay and I wouldn’t pass English and I wouldn’t get to be a nurse, so I’ll tell you, but under protest.  The wife was less than impressed, even going so far as to suggest I had paid off the admissions board just to get into community college.  I almost had her agreeing (she had stopped yelling anyway) that the deck needed to be bigger and just about four inches taller as we sat in the lounge chairs I had strategically placed in the driveway when it was time to check the turkey I was smoking.  I only have twelve steps up from ground level, so I can’t blame vibration, but just as I returned to my Pimm’s cocktail in the lounge chair there was a “pop!!”  And then two more.  We looked at each other and back just in time to haul the chairs out of the way.  The whole deck gave a groaning impression of the water tower in F Troop and folded up neatly on itself.  I sprayed water on that brand new grill for about ten minutes, and then rolled it off the rubble.  Upon inspection,  the insurance adjuster decided the deck was a faulty installation and had nothing to do with the CGPS.  Dodged a howitzer.

                So now you know that I am not a smart man, but a lucky one.  The deck was installed prior to my arrival (by my wife’s ex, a never ending source of amusement) and was not a learning experience, as there were no consequences involved for the installer.  The CGPS still functions flawlessly on our new deck (same size thanks to the fascist planning board) And the Spitfire is in a new home with a garage where the fella is welding the doors shut so he won’t be able to use a top anyway.  My plan of action was put to use rebuilding the deck, and my motivation has been emasculated by the loss of many precious motor vehicles since that event two years ago.  The learning I do now has consequences for others, the motivation is altruistic and the plan of action is evidence-based.  Please don’t tell my patients this story as they believe I learn my lessons from books and feel safe around me thinking that.