Admiration for the Greats

I think, as a nation, we have failed to appropriately honor some of the great inventors.  Seriously, Thomas Crapper (and others vying for prestige and honor) has not gotten his due and generous thanks from all of us for the flush toilet.  Or, Filippo Brunelleschi? – He did a heck of a job on the portable clock (the 1400’s forerunner of the modern day wristwatch).  Was Felix Hoffman just being a diligent son when he concocted aspirin for his ailing father – who would have thought his legacy of “take two aspirins and call me in the morning” would have lasted through the times? How about Pedro Flores for the Yo-Yo? It gave new meaning to life’s ups and downs.

The one person I would like to personally pay homage to is Thomas Alva Edison.  Besides his success with the new fangled motion picture camera, his work with cement, the collaboration with a partner that resulted in inventing the typewriter and his other 1,365 separate and distinct patents, I vote that Edison’s little project on electricity be brought to light (so to speak).

The reverence for such an innovation is, unfortunately, not one of those things that one is grateful for until such is not available to them.  We take for granted that when we want something to work, we turn it on and it responds.  Well, best laid plans of mice and men!  When the desired reaction is not engaged, a person finds out quickly of what they, their loved ones, compatriots and cronies are made.

Case in point: last night, about 6:04PM, the lights blinked and the electricity was kaput.  The dryer stopped turning; the oven where part of dinner was cooking went dark; the power light on the phone was nonexistent and panic swept over me.  After surviving a 5-day power outage this past winter, the anticipation of another “roughing it” experience with my loving, caring, unwilling, unable, unresourceful and bored family was, well, not something I was looking forward to.  Besides, my blow-dryer is not operational is such emergency conditions, the water heater only lasts through limited showers, and the thought of reading by candlelight only goes so far in the romance department.

But, pulling myself together, I went into action mode.  Flashlight?  Check!  Batteries?  Yes!  Recently purchased – I was thinking ahead (I gave myself extra points for readiness).  Candles?  Check!  Matches?  Hmmmm, where (deduct extra points earned from above) did I put that coveted little box (have you noticed that restaurants don’t hand out matches like they did a few years back?  In my early 20’s I collected matches from every food and drink establishment I frequented… boy, oh boy, if those little diddies could talk – I digress – they would have to be burned!).

In the shadows, the barbeque grill was rolled out to complete dinner.  The whole meal tasted better than usual – must have been the dining by the fireplace.  Cleaning the dishes by candlelight made me appreciate the hard work my ancestors must have endured.  I made note to kiss my garbage disposal (thank you, John Hammes, for his 1927 invention) and dishwasher (invented by Josephine Garis Cochrane in 1893).  My son found contentment in his imagination and building of a massive blanket and pillow fort by flashlight.  My ever-ready spousal unit was finding satisfaction in reading by candlelight.  And, me?  Well, I snuck upstairs for a long winters nap… even though it was only 7:30, it had to be bedtime in some time zone.

The electricity ended up being off only 6 hours, but having the knowledge that we survived will prepare us for the next outage… bring it on.  And, thanks Mr. Edison… we appreciate your illuminating efforts.

Cynthia A. McClelland, curious observer of the obvious with interpretations of the oddities of daily life.  Mother, wife and lover of the furry, resides in the north Lake Tahoe area.                      

Cynthia A. McClelland © 2003-