Fridge Bowling

Monday, May 07, 2007 |

I think I may have invented a new sport. I'm calling it "Refrigerator Bowling." Wait, maybe I'm getting a little ahead of myself. I need to tell you a few things first. Let's start at the beginning.

My father-in-law, Henry, is a man of intelligence, logic and great dexterity (more on that in a bit). Henry and his beautiful wife, Rhonda, purchased a historic house that was in need of what I call "intensive restoration and re-old-ification."

When they bought the house over a year ago, it was split into two apartments. The plan was to live in the top half of the house and "re-old-ify" the main level. After that was complete, they would live on the rejuvenated main floor and rip into the upstairs. This will explain a few things later.

Henry, much like myself, likes to do much of the work himself. This accomplishes three major items:

1. It insures the job gets done correctly and in a timely manner.

2. It saves a little cash to spend on things like new flooring (This also will make sense in a bit).

3. It provides countless stories with which you can share when you run out of stories about the weather.

Refrigerator Bowling is quite the story.

It was the Saturday before the Bismarck spring cleanup week. This is the week when the city says, "Rules schmules! If you put anything on the curb on trash day, our courteous and sturdy garbage collection brigades will take it away, as if by magic."

I was asked to help my father-in-law haul an old fridge out to the curb. The appliance was approximately 50 years old, weighed more than some cars I've owned and smelled like my college roommate after spring break.

Henry and I inspected the fridge, then made a quick assessment to see what was the fastest route to the curb. Oh, did I forget to mention that this old clunker of a fridge was on the second floor? Well, it was.

After a few minutes of verbal navigating, we leaned the beast and began our trek. First out of the kitchen and into the living room. Then, it was a quick turn and we were at the stairs.

The stairs are in the midst of being "re-old-ified." The carpet has been stripped from their treads, the ornate railing and banisters are having their shells of paint stripped off exposing their "oakey" goodness.

Henry was leading our maneuvers and thus was walking backward down the stairs, and I walked forward. We had the fridge hauled to the first landing, where we needed to turn it 180 degrees and descend to the main floor and out the door. As he and I struggled with the antiquated cooler, it slipped.

The once vertical white monster was now lying belly down on the wooden stair treads, and we were paid a visit by Mr. Gravity. In a matter of seconds, I saw my father-in-law take the brunt of the beast as he quickly descended the stairway solo.

From my point of view (which I have to admit was the best vantage point for an event such as this), it appeared in slow motion. At the moment Henry realized the fridge was slipping, I saw more of his eyes than I have ever seen before. There were white parts way off to the sides that may have never seen the daylight before.

Then his head turns and looks back as he deftly maneuvers his feet down the stairs in reverse. It was like watching a world-champion clogger being fast-forwarded.

The fridge came to a rest at the bottom of the stairs by gouging into the old maple floor. Henry continued with the momentum and ended up sitting against the wall by the front door.

After a quick triage, it was determined that his only injury was a tweaked ankle. He rose from the mayhem with a smile on his face and a limp in his walk. It was at that moment Fridge Bowling was born.

Next weekend, I'll be back for the second fridge and the chest freezer. If we're lucky, we also may invent freezer surfing.

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Posted by brian