Friday, October 14, 2011

"Branching Out"

By Jerry Zezima

The Stamford Advocate

For centuries, nature lovers and people with too much time on their hands have asked a perplexing and frankly ridiculous question: If a tree falls in the woods, and no one is there to hear it, will there be a sound? For weeks, I had asked an even dumber question: If a tree falls in my backyard, and I am there to hear it, will it land on my head?


I got the answer recently when a tree did fall in my backyard. It landed on the ground and did, indeed, make a sound, which wasn’t nearly as loud as it would have been if the tree had landed on my head.


A few years ago, a large oak on the edge of my property fell on the house next door. My neighbors got the firewood, which I happily gave to them, not just because they were so nice and understanding (insurance paid for the damage), but because it would have been extremely dangerous to use the wood to start a fire in my house for the simple reason that I don’t have a fireplace.


This year, my wife, Sue, and I worried about falling trees every time a violent storm was forecast. We also worried about the skylight in the family room. Skylights are nice when the sun is out, but essentially they are floods waiting to happen. And our skylight would leak during a drought.


“If a tree fell on our house, and we were there to collect the insurance money, would we get a new roof and skylight?” I asked Sue.


“What a ridiculous question,” she replied, adding: “Although it worked next door.”


Storm after storm raged, we lost power, we lost food, we lost patience, but no trees fell. Then, one day, Sue noticed that a slender oak was leaning precariously, its branches almost touching the power lines and its roots coming up from the soggy ground.


“It’s going to fall on the lines,” she predicted. “You better call the power company.”


Two days later, a couple of beefy guys came over to size up the situation.


“The company isn’t going to send anyone to take the tree down,” one of them said.


“Maybe you can take it down yourself,” the other one suggested. “Do you have a chainsaw?”


“No,” I said. “Just a handsaw.”


“Get a rope, tie it around the tree, tie the other end of the rope around this other tree,” the first guy said, referring to a larger oak several feet away, “and start cutting.”


By this time I was at the end of my rope and was about to make a cutting remark when the second guy, who looked like Paul Bunyan, suggested all three of us try to push the tree over.


I felt like Paul’s pal, Babe the Blue Ox, not because I am strong but because I am dumb as an ox, which I proved by saying, “Good idea!”


It actually turned out to be brilliant. We huffed and we puffed and we pushed the tree down. It landed far from my head. The sound, which we all heard, wasn’t deafening.


“Now you’re a lumberjack,” said the guy who looked like Paul Bunyan.


“Or a lumberjerk,” I noted.


After the men left, I got my trusty handsaw and, with the help of WD-40 and beer, started seeing that the sawing was easier than I thought. By the end of the afternoon, I had cut off all the branches, cut up the trunk and dragged the whole kit and caboodle to the curb.


The next morning I could barely get out of bed.


If another tree looks like it is going to fall, and I am there to cut it down with a handsaw but am afraid it will land on my head, will I say the hell with it and call a professional tree service?


What a ridiculous question.


Copyright 2011 by Jerry Zezima


12 comments:

Dave Astor said...

Excellent column, Jerry! Another expert combination of humor and storytelling. If a tree branch fell on a branch library, should I take out a book about handsaws?

Jerry Zezima said...

Thanks, Dave. I have to hand it to you for your remark about handsaws. Of course, you'd have to go to a chain store for a chainsaw. I see that you saw the difference in the saws.

darev2005 said...

That's the kind of story a guy could really sink his teeth into! (grin)

Jerry Zezima said...

Thanks, Darev2005. I am showing my teeth right now because I am smiling at your comment. You must have graduated from Pun State.

darev2005 said...

I just couldn't help replying to your cutting remarks.

**sigh** Okay, I'll stop now.

Jerry Zezima said...

Don't stop, Darev2005. This could go on indefinitely. I'm sure you see, as I saw, that it could be like a seesaw.

darev2005 said...

That's the problem with long running puns. We could be whipsawing back and forth for days!

Heidi-"Heidi in Real Life" said...

Very clever! Pretty much anything that sounds like a terrible idea (sawing tree with handsaw terrible)--my husband would be "down with". Awesome column!

Jerry Zezima said...

Thanks, Heidi. Tell your husband he's not alone. Still, one terrible idea is enough. Next time, I'll hire a professional. You know, of course, that the only people for whom terrible ideas are good ideas are humor columnists.

Jerry Zezima said...

And the whipsawing, Darev2005, would have us in a daze.

foxyroxy said...

You have just been willed a chainsaw (your Dad's) . That makes you a member of the chain gang . Keep sawing during the day but not at night ZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

Jerry Zezima said...

Thanks, Foxy. I don't need a saw to saw wood at night, but you can see that I saw that I'd be proud to take the chainsaw, which I will use to saw wood during the day.