From the Domino Effect to the Shrine in the Back Yard

Sometimes things just start happening in my life that could only be described as The Domino Effect. This particular chain reaction started about three weeks ago.

Our 27 year old electric stove top had begun to flat-line, and the burners were very close to letting go to fall through to the abyss beneath, and I had vowed not to spend another penny on drip pans or beauty rings. I should have remembered the rule of things happening in threes, but my excitement over getting a new cook-top over-rode the negative thought.

So, off to Home Depot we trotted to have a look at new stove-tops. I had never seen such an array of new-fangled appliances. There were ranges that you only had to touch to give a command. I asked if there was one that took voice commands, and the kindly salesman looked over the top of his glasses at me as if to say, Oh, you poor woman! We chose a glass flat-top model, in white, with five burners. The two burners on the left share a bridge between them that provides a place to put a griddle. We were both a little uncomfortable with the touch model, and chose one with the old fashioned knobs. The only real draw back with this kind of range top is that you can only use stainless steel. Fortunately, we have that, but needed to get rid of the other pots and pans with copper bottoms and the few aluminum ones. No coated cookware or cast iron, either. Our amicable salesman said that our new appliance could be delivered by Friday afternoon or early Saturday. This would be in time to show it off to our Friday Night Dinner Club over the week-end.

On the day before we were to receive our new stove-top, I received a call from a woman at G.E. She sounded totally bored with her job, and that’s very dangerous in these times. She informed me that the stove-top would not be delivered on the date previously promised. I bravely asked why. She actually yawned, “I don’t know. That’s just what they told me. It won’t be delivered until Monday. Someone will give you a call. Thank you for your patience.” What was I to say? I’d already told my girlfriends about my new stove-top. They wanted to see. This was going to be a big let down.

The delivery came on Monday, and a few minutes later, the installer showed up to install it in the ceramic tile counter. Some extra cutting was required, as the stove-top was a bit larger than the old one. The guy started cutting and gently dropped it in to the space. I was ready to be impressed and awed with my new glass stove-top, but the installer kept trying to maneuver it this way and that, and finally he said that the range-top was an odd shape and didn’t fit precisely enough in the hole he had cut. It was horrible! There were big gaps all the way around. He tried to stall my mounting panic by saying, “Well, it can be calked. I’ll see if I have some in my truck.” I could not imagine calking it, as there was a special seal already furnished. It wouldn’t work with the gaps around it. The installer came back from his truck with, “I don’t have any calk, but you can get some and fill it in.” I told him that it wasn’t satisfactory,and further more, that we should not have to do that anyway. The guy as much as shrugged, and left. Like, it was now out of his hands. I was livid!

I called our salesman right away and told him that the whole thing was just one horrible nightmare. He said he’d come after work and see what he could do. As it turned out, he didn’t make it that night, but came the next day at lunch and started fixing it. He really was good, and caulked expertly around the entire thing. He said it would take about two more caulkings after that, and that he’d come back the next day for the next application. I was calming down a little. Within the next couple of days the caulking job was finished, and the new stove-top looks and works just fine. I could start cooking on it.

Here’s where it gets interesting. After the man left, I got on the computer to write. I was doing some research online for a story I was going to submit to Helium. As I clicked and rejected one item and then another, I clicked on one item that looked like it might be the just the information I was looking for. My heart stopped when a window popped up saying that there was a virus lurking. It jumped into my throat when a window that looked like our virus scan program popped up asking if I wanted to scan. My first reaction was Of course I want to scan for this thing! As I clicked “Yes”, it occurred to me that our virus scan would automatically scan without prompting. It was one of those moments, like when you’ve left your keys in the ignition with the motor running; you’ve locked the doors and you step out of the car. You can’t catch the door before it slams shut…..Shit! Shit! Shit! (Go ahead and ask me how I know this. I dare you.) I had downloaded a virus! Yes….I did it! It was me! I called the Royster immediately to tell him what I had done. I was right next to tears, but damned if I’d let this machine see me cry.

The Royster asked me what I had done, and then asked me point blank, “You clicked ‘Yes’, didn’t you? Please tell me you didn’t click ‘Yes’.” I started stammering, hoping that this was one horrible dream. “Um…well…err…Yes, I guess I did.” He was just as distraught as I knew he’d be. He simply does not take news like this gracefully at all. This was not a pretty scene. Anyone who knows The Royster knows what he’s like at a time like this. A person could suffocate in his panicked frenzy.

The Royster knows an IT guy that lives close by. John came over to have a look and to start work on it. I was just sweating bullets, but tried to remember that most of the things we think are lost in a computer are retrievable. Also, that Roy backs up everything pretty regularly. Without going into much detail here, John was able to fix it, but not without much ado. I tried to stay busy downstairs, while Roy plied him with beer and humor. The two of them labored long and hard over it, until it was finally fixed. I could breathe again, and The Royster was calm again. For the next few days, it was smooth sailing.

Then there was the matter of the 30 year old dryer. With the week-end at hand, I had been doing laundry. As the buzzer on the dryer sounded, I hurried to take the clothes out of the dryer before they wrinkled. As I did this, The Royster drove into the driveway. The clothes were still wet! Quickly, I tried to think of something cheerful to tell The Royster as he walked in the door, but absolutely nothing came to mind. As he approached the back door with a very pleased grin on his face, all I could come up with was, “It didn’t work! The damn dryer didn’t dry the clothes!” His smile disappeared, and I sensed that there would be an explosion. Oh! God!

He didn’t look happy about it, but surprisingly, he did not explode with his usual flare. He went to the bedroom and changed clothes, and came out to have a look. “Well …” he said. "This dryer has just died. It’s about 30 years old, and I guess it was time. Let’s go to Home Depot and look for a dryer.” I was very pleasantly surprised. So we went to H.D. to pick out a no-frills clothes dryer. It would be delivered on Tuesday. I could wait that long. After all, I still had a clothes line strung up behind the garage. It came in handy during Ike, and I would do for now as well.

I’ve almost forgotten entirely what this was leading to ….Oh! Yes! The Shrine! On the way home from H.D., The Royster said he’d been thinking all day about getting a really cool smoker and building a pad and a tin roof to cover it with. That was what that smile had been about when he’d arrived home, before the news about the dryer. He went on to describe how he would build the shed.

The next morning, we went to Academy just to look, and he bought his smoker. He certainly deserved it. We dropped it off at the house and then went to get the lumber and corrugated tin that we would need for this shed / smokehouse. While he measured and cut lumber, I went to get the stones we’d need for the pad to sit it on.


The Royster worked in the cold, grinning and thinking about future culinary delights with his new smoker, and the shrine he was building to house it in. It was almost complete on the first day, and it stands waiting for Super Bowl Sunday and its first task of smoking brisket and hang down. What a finale to the dreaded Domino Effect.