THE UNKNOWN DRAWER [W, 7-24-24]

BEYOND WINTER: Irrelevant Musings and Misadventures of an Old Man—THE UNKNOWN DRAWER [W, 7-24-24]

 

Now that Helen is using Ron Walker’s walker—a felicitous juxtaposition of proper name and common name—she occasionally breaks down and lets me do something in the kitchen. Like open a can of something for lunch. Which requires a can opener. Which is not in the secret, mysterious, unknown, previously undiscovered drawer.

Don’t misunderstand; I use drawers in the kitchen all the time. The one to the left of the stove has the IBC root beer bottle opener that plays the IU fight song as it flips the lid of the rooty nectar. The one two drawers left of it has the “eatin’ irons,” as my mother-in-law called them. I use that drawer often, especially on “choose your own silverware” day.

That leaves the drawer between. The one I didn’t even know existed, although we have lived here for 9 years.

Helen told me, I thought, that I could find the can opener two drawers left of the stove. She knows I am sure of the name and position of the stove, for even though I don’t use it, I use the radar range that is above it. So it’s a handy starting point for directions.

BTW, the thirty-second button on the radar range is the greatest invention of all time. If you want to tell someone how long to heat an item, you can just say “two punches” or “three punches,” etc. No need to worry with numbers, which usually only confuse things.

Anyway, I thought she meant the silverware drawer. I didn’t remember ever seeing a can opener in it on “choose your own silverware” day. But, no! There was another drawer, between the bottle opener drawer and the drawer where the dish runs away with the spoon.

In my defense, a quite unexceptional drawer. Only a foot wide. Only one pull knob. But it has all sorts of interesting looking stuff in it. I recognized Band-Aids and corn handles, but nothing else, although I later heard Helen say something about an emulsifier, which I thought was an Ante-Nicene heresy.

Actually, the can opener turned out to be in the root beer opener drawer. But again, in my defense, it wasn’t the first thing in the drawer, so what can you do, look behind stuff? Actually, two openers, both the one that you use first and find out that it doesn’t work—even with the help of the cleaning lady, who happens to be in the kitchen at the time—and also the one that does work, if you push hard enough.

My advice is: look around your house, especially the kitchen. There might be a drawer you haven’t noticed before. It won’t have what you’re looking for, but…

John Robert McFarland

BTW, I met Lacey this morning on my walk. A perfect name for a little white puffball. I know the names of all the dogs on my route. Eddie, and Hazel, and Jack, and Bo, and Daisy, and Frankie, and Gypsy, and Angie, and Cici, and Charlie, and… Unknown drawers, yes. Unknown dogs, no.