Monday, June 05, 2006
Mission: Impossible
Soon after getting home from work today, I noticed a fly had gotten into my place and was zooming around the livingroom. I knew my dad had a pair of battery-powered bug zappers that look like toy tennis rackets, but I wasn't sure where he kept them, so I gave him a call.
"Dad, do you know where you put those bug zappers?" I asked.
"I think they're here in the trailer. You need them?" my dad asked.
"Yeah. There's a fly in the house," I responded.
"A house fly, huh? I'll be right over," and he hung up the phone.
Minutes later, my dad walked through the front door holding two yellow plastic undersized tennis rackets. Handing one of the rackets to me, my dad said, "Let's get this bitch."
My dad has a belly that strongly resembles a beer keg. Rumor has it that you can connect a tap to his navel and drink for days. However, when it comes to killing insects, he's like a highly trained assassin. I couldn't imagine having a better agent on my team.
I pulled up iTunes on my Dell and put on the Mission Impossible theme song to set the mood. I chose the Junior's Hard Mix version by U2's Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen. The mix is eight minutes and fifty-one seconds long. My hope was that the mission would be completed well before the song was over.
As it turns out, I had greatly underestimated the fly.
We each switched on our tennis racket/bug zappers and the hunt was on. Taking my father's lead, I moved slowly though the livingroom, visually scanning the area for a sign of the fly.
After a moment, I see the fly land on the shade on one of my floor lamps. I lunge at it, swatting the lamp shade. This sent the lamp tumbling against the curtains, knocking the curtain rods out of place and sending the curtains falling to the floor. Then I see the fly zip across the living room, as if to say, "You can't catch me!"
"Don't forget: these suckers are electrical," my dad says, referring to the bug zappers. "There's no need for brute force. Just try to tap him while he's in mid-flight."
My dad squats down to pick up the curtains. As he starts to lift them, I see the fly buzzing around just behind his head.
"Don't move, dad," I said.
As I brought down the bug zapper towards my dad's head, he spun around, held out his hand, and yelled, "No! Wait!" The bug zapper hit his hand and he yelled, "Argh!" He pulled back his hand in pain.
"Are you all right, dad?" I asked.
After examining his hand he said, "Yeah, I'll be fine. Just watch it."
"OK dad, sorry," I said.
My dad put the curtain rod back on its holder, and we resumed the hunt. We each took up positions on opposite sides of the livingroom, slowly circling the perimeter looking for the fly. Over the next few minutes, we spotted the fly several times, but it quickly vanished before we could spring into action.
As the Mission Impossible theme song was coming to an end, both of us spot the fly zooming through the living room at the same time. We each swing at the fly. Our tennis rackets hit one another, but we missed the fly.
At that very moment, my mother entered the house, swinging the front door wide open. "What are you boys up to?" she asks. "I saw the curatins fall down."
The fly charged straight towards my mother. She saw it, raised one hand, and said, "Shoo!" Startled by my mother, the fly swerved around her and flew outside through the open door just before she closed it behind her.
My dad and I looked at each other dumbfounded. In one swift ninja-like move, my mother had gotten rid of the fly. My dad and I fell to our knees, raised our arms, and bowed in mock praise saying, "We are not worthy!"
My moms says, "I married a fool and gave birth to a fool," then she turned around, and left through the door she had just come though.
My dad and I burst out laughing.
Once the laughter subsided, my dad walks up to me with a smile on his face and says, "Hold out your hand." I hold out my hand, expecting him to "give me some skin" for a mission accomplished. Instead, he smacks my hand with the bug zapper.
"Ouch!" I yell. "That stung!"
"You're damn right it did," my dad says. Then he headed back to the trailer.
- Bernie ¶ 5:54 PM
Soon after getting home from work today, I noticed a fly had gotten into my place and was zooming around the livingroom. I knew my dad had a pair of battery-powered bug zappers that look like toy tennis rackets, but I wasn't sure where he kept them, so I gave him a call. "Dad, do you know where you put those bug zappers?" I asked.
"I think they're here in the trailer. You need them?" my dad asked.
"Yeah. There's a fly in the house," I responded.
"A house fly, huh? I'll be right over," and he hung up the phone.
Minutes later, my dad walked through the front door holding two yellow plastic undersized tennis rackets. Handing one of the rackets to me, my dad said, "Let's get this bitch."My dad has a belly that strongly resembles a beer keg. Rumor has it that you can connect a tap to his navel and drink for days. However, when it comes to killing insects, he's like a highly trained assassin. I couldn't imagine having a better agent on my team.
I pulled up iTunes on my Dell and put on the Mission Impossible theme song to set the mood. I chose the Junior's Hard Mix version by U2's Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen. The mix is eight minutes and fifty-one seconds long. My hope was that the mission would be completed well before the song was over.
As it turns out, I had greatly underestimated the fly.
We each switched on our tennis racket/bug zappers and the hunt was on. Taking my father's lead, I moved slowly though the livingroom, visually scanning the area for a sign of the fly.
After a moment, I see the fly land on the shade on one of my floor lamps. I lunge at it, swatting the lamp shade. This sent the lamp tumbling against the curtains, knocking the curtain rods out of place and sending the curtains falling to the floor. Then I see the fly zip across the living room, as if to say, "You can't catch me!"
"Don't forget: these suckers are electrical," my dad says, referring to the bug zappers. "There's no need for brute force. Just try to tap him while he's in mid-flight."
My dad squats down to pick up the curtains. As he starts to lift them, I see the fly buzzing around just behind his head.
"Don't move, dad," I said.
As I brought down the bug zapper towards my dad's head, he spun around, held out his hand, and yelled, "No! Wait!" The bug zapper hit his hand and he yelled, "Argh!" He pulled back his hand in pain.
"Are you all right, dad?" I asked.
After examining his hand he said, "Yeah, I'll be fine. Just watch it."
"OK dad, sorry," I said.
My dad put the curtain rod back on its holder, and we resumed the hunt. We each took up positions on opposite sides of the livingroom, slowly circling the perimeter looking for the fly. Over the next few minutes, we spotted the fly several times, but it quickly vanished before we could spring into action.
As the Mission Impossible theme song was coming to an end, both of us spot the fly zooming through the living room at the same time. We each swing at the fly. Our tennis rackets hit one another, but we missed the fly.
At that very moment, my mother entered the house, swinging the front door wide open. "What are you boys up to?" she asks. "I saw the curatins fall down."
The fly charged straight towards my mother. She saw it, raised one hand, and said, "Shoo!" Startled by my mother, the fly swerved around her and flew outside through the open door just before she closed it behind her.
My dad and I looked at each other dumbfounded. In one swift ninja-like move, my mother had gotten rid of the fly. My dad and I fell to our knees, raised our arms, and bowed in mock praise saying, "We are not worthy!"
My moms says, "I married a fool and gave birth to a fool," then she turned around, and left through the door she had just come though.
My dad and I burst out laughing.
Once the laughter subsided, my dad walks up to me with a smile on his face and says, "Hold out your hand." I hold out my hand, expecting him to "give me some skin" for a mission accomplished. Instead, he smacks my hand with the bug zapper.
"Ouch!" I yell. "That stung!"
"You're damn right it did," my dad says. Then he headed back to the trailer.
- Bernie ¶ 5:54 PM
