Climbing The Ladder Of Success

As I’ve written on a couple occasions in this blog, my son recently went to Lineman College to be a climber and now works as a tower tech climbing steel towers, poles, and other structures. Basically, anything that has to do with electricity and sticks up into the air, he climbs it. I should have known he’d be in that line of work long ago - when he was only a year old.

One summer, both of my daughters were visiting my parents for three weeks and most days my wife worked well into the evening. That left me at home with my son in the afternoon. I needed to paint the house and not being the patient type, I didn’t want to wait until the weekend. My son was a year old but not yet walking and figuring he couldn’t crawl too far, I spread a quilt on the grass, piling a few toys around him. Then, I got out the paint and a brush.

The upper level on our two-story house was set back with the roof of the lower level extending out. This made it nice for painting the wall of the second story - after I’d set a ladder in place and climbed the ten feet to the roof. I painted for fifteen or twenty minutes, stopping every minute or so to check on him. Everything was fine, and then...

The next time I turned around to look, I didn’t see him on the quilt. He was nowhere in the yard either. Dropping the brush on the roof, I quickly made it to the ladder. Ready to climb down and start a search; a manhunt, or babyhunt as it were, I saw him - halfway up the ladder and still struggling to climb.

Not wanting to startle him, or take a chance of knocking him off the ladder, I did what any slightly crazed parent would do - I jumped. I wasn’t nearly as old as I am now so the jump, or rather the landing, didn’t hurt me any. In about two seconds, I was on the ground, ready to catch him if he fell while I climbed up the ladder to reach him. It all ended well, except for me. I think my son’s first experience with climbing took a few years off his Dad’s life!

Over the next few years, the kid continued to climb - just about anything, seemingly not afraid of heights at all. As I’m sure he would point out, it’s really not the height or even the fall that will get you - it’s what comes next. Not that he has much to worry about, he’s had lots of experience; been climbing since he was a baby - literally!

Bruce A. Borders, author and songwriter, has over 500 songs and more than a dozen books. Over My Dead Body, The Journey, and Miscarriage Of Justice, his latest books, are available on Apple I-Pad®, Amazon Kindle®, Barnes & Noble Nook® and Sony Reader®, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords. Now also available in print at many online retailers or at www.bruceabordersbooks.weebly.com. The popular Wynn Garrett Series Books are now available on Barnes And Noble® at http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/?series_id=867526 See Bruce’s Smashwords Profile at www.smashwords.com/profile/view/BruceABorders

The Climber

When I was a kid, someone left a pair of power pole climbers in our garage- metal spikes that fit around your boot and dig into the wooden pole as you step. Ever the adventurous type, of course, I had to try them out. I strapped them on as best I could - my feet were not nearly big enough for them to fit properly - and set out for the pole at the back of our house. Not having a belt, and not knowing a belt was supposed to be used, I struggled to get the hang of climbing the pole. Eventually, I managed to get about halfway up the thirty-five foot pole before my arms gave out and I quickly descended.

I practiced quite a lot, and in a few days I got to where I could make it to the bottom of the cross arm. I didn’t want anything to do with the high voltage power lines and didn’t try to go any further. I still had no clue I was supposed to be using more equipment, and I thought the guys who did this climbing thing for a living must be really strong. I decided I needed more practice.

Since I wasn’t actually doing anything, climbing the pole every day was rather pointless, but it was fun - that is until the guy from the power company saw me. He nearly wrecked his truck in an effort to get me to come down. Then, he threatened to take away my climbers and said he’d call the police the next time he caught me. Apparently, he thought I was either going to fall or get electrocuted. After that, I only climbed on the weekends or later in the day when the power company guys were not working. But, as is usually the case with kids’ short attention spans, I soon forgot about climbing power poles.

And then, years later, my son decided he’d like to climb power poles. Except he approached the idea with a little more thought and planning - he went to school to learn how. For the past several months, he’s attended Northwest Lineman College.

This past week, we attended his graduation. But before the ceremony, the soon to be graduates put on a show for all of us, a lineman rodeo. And at last, I got to see the right way to climb a pole. They made it look easy! And, having the proper equipment, it probably is a lot easier than the way I tried it. I’ll probably never know. Although my son would probably give me pointers and show me how, and maybe even lend me his climbers, I think I’m too old and out of shape to even attempt such a thing.

So instead, I just bought a tee-shirt. Hey, it says I’m a climber, and no one will ever know I’m really not - aside from those who read this blog. Unfortunately, that number could be a lot since I just posted it on the Internet.

Bruce A. Borders, author and songwriter, has over 500 songs and more than a dozen books. Over My Dead Body, The Journey, and Miscarriage Of Justice, his latest books, are available on Apple I-Pad®, Amazon Kindle®, Barnes & Noble Nook® and Sony Reader®, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords. For more information, visit www.bruceabordersbooks.weebly.com. See Bruce’s Amazon Author Page at www.amazon.com/author/bruceaborders or view his Smashwords Profile at www.smashwords.com/profile/view/BruceABorders

Electrical Education

I had a strong fascination with electricity when I was a kid – still do; only now, I also have a healthy respect for it. After I learned the hard way its not really something to play with.

I was six years old. My parents had gone away on a trip, leaving my brother and I with some of their friends to watch us at our house. As anyone knows, it’s much easier to get away with things you normally wouldn’t be able to do when your parents aren’t around. I should have been content with that but no; I chose to take the opportunity to attempt to electrocute myself. That wasn’t my intention - that’s just the way it turned out.

In my dad’s toolbox, I found a short piece of bare wire, about eight inches long, with an alligator clip attached to one end. I took the wire to my room, not really knowing what for at that point. But, I figured there had to be something exciting I could do with it. There was.

In my room, I had a small metal wall heater located about four inches from a plugin. For some reason, I thought it’d be a good idea to attach the alligator clip to the heater and then insert the other end into the plug. I guess I wanted to see what would happen. What happened was, the instant the wire made contact, I got a severe jolt, as blue and orange sparks flew. But that wasn’t the worst of it. My little miniature arc welder welded the alligator clip to the heater and the other end to the plug. And then it melted the skin on my forefinger and thumb together around the wire.

Of course, the burning feeling and continuous surging of electricity caused me to jerk my hand back. The only result of that was my fingers slid smoothly down the wire; I couldn’t let go. At some point, I started yelling – probably the very second I felt the first volt enter my fingers. Everyone in the house rushed into my room where my plight was quite obvious. The guy who rescued me said later, he knew that if he’d touched me or the wire he’d have wound up in the same predicament as I. Lucky for me, he also knew what to do.

He quickly removed his thick leather belt, and I thought I was getting a spanking. Instead, he looped the belt around the wire and gave it a quick pull. The relief was instant! No more shocking and burning feeling! Still, one small problem remained; my fingers were still melded together. A little persuasion from a pocketknife and I again had the use of all five digits on that hand.

I still have the scars on my finger and thumb but I don’t think I need them to remember the experience. The incident left a rather searing impression on my brain as well and I never attempted a repeat performance. But, I have a son who a lot of people say is a lot like me – right down to his early and unhealthy interest in electricity.

He was three at the time. We were at my parent’s house and like his father; he decided plugins were meant to have things, other than a plug, inserted into them – keys in this instance. Unlike his father, he was able to let go but not before creating his own artistic display of fireworks and making a unique set of black marks on the wall. He suffered no long-term ill effects (we think) but never seemed to want to discuss the incident much. However, his interest in electricity wasn’t totally dispelled. In fact, this past week, he started Lineman College. Apparently, he too, decided electricity isn’t something to play with – he’s going to make a career of it.

Bruce A. Borders, author and songwriter has over 500 songs and more than a dozen books. Over My Dead Body, The Journey, and Miscarriage Of Justice, his latest books, are available on Apple I-Pad®, Amazon Kindle®, Barnes & Noble Nook® and Sony Reader®, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords. For more information, visit www.bruceaborders.com. See Bruce’s Amazon Author Page at www.amazon.com/author/bruceaborders or view his Smashwords Profile at www.smashwords.com/profile/view/BruceABorders