October 17, 2011

…so I head up into the attic armed with flashlight, hammer, and broom. I’m crawling on my hands and knees underneath the beams looking for the sound of Tracey pounding on the ceiling of my bathroom every time the smoke detector beeps. Up to my waist in insulation foam, I’m wearing a facemask, rubber gloves, and covered with clothes from head to toe. Hell, if I hadn’t had my prostate removed last year I’d probably arm myself with a condom too. With all that fiberglass around you, one can’t take too many chances…

So now I’m moving insulation around with my hands and my broom and I can hear Tracey pounding on the ceiling below me. I can’t hear a thing but I can feel the sound of her pounding from below. I’m frantically moving mounds of insulation aside trying to hear a sharper version of the muffled beep she’s hearing below me, but no luck – I can’t hear a thing. I feel like I’ve lost the war, and all I can think of is calls to the HOA and some handyman coming out to rip my bathroom celing apart, running up hundreds of dollars trying to find the source of this damned beeping.

After moving another whole pile I hear Tracey down below saying that the sound seems to have moved and that it’s coming from another area in my bathroom. I work my way down from the attic and find her on her knees with my bathroom cabinet doors opened. The sound is louder now, and she’s working her way through all the junk you typically find stored underneath bathroom sinks. And then, all of a sudden, there is! A smoke detector in the farthest corner of the cabinet, beeping its freakin’ ass off. It’s the same damned smoke detector I took down from the guest bedroom ceiling a couple of years ago when our old A/C units outflow valve got clogged, sending water down through the ceiling. I had never put it back up; I’d left it in the dresser of the guest bedroom. Evidently, someone (I’m guessing my sister-in-law) cleaning out the dresser had tossed it in the cabinet underneath the bathroom sink. Which explains why we never could find the source of the beeping and why it sounded so muffled.

The house is quiet tonight, for the first time in weeks. Call it just one of those things. But at least it’s a mystery solved.

Me, I’m off to take a nice hot shower to get all this fiberglass off me.

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 00:20 | Comments (7)
7 Comments »
  1. What a frikkin’ idiot! 😀

    Comment by Dave Richard — October 17, 2011 @ 8:14 am


  2. Well, you don’t normally go looking for smoke detectors that aren’t hanging on ceilings… but in this case you might be right.

    Comment by The Great White Shank — October 17, 2011 @ 12:56 pm


  3. Note to self…always remove the batteries from smoke detectors when not in use. Also, I would be selective with who I share this story otherwise people will think, “what a frikkin’ idiot”. Oh wait, your brother already thinks that and posted it on a blog. Sorry dude, the secrets out but I feel your pain.

    Comment by Jana — October 17, 2011 @ 6:24 pm


  4. No need to be selective. You always get the unvarnished truth from The Great White Shank. I don’t claim to be a genius or politically correct. I call ’em as I see ’em. Remember, y’all, as John Lennon wrote in his classic tune “Isolation”, I’m “just a human, a victim of the insane”. Most people have the same life experiences in one way or the other, I just write about ’em for your entertainment value.

    Comment by The Great White Shank — October 17, 2011 @ 8:21 pm


  5. And I am totally entertained reading your descriptive attic crawl…however, an attachment of photos in your anti-fiberglass uniform would have been good. And then a final shot of amazement when the offending beeper was dicovered. This could have been a YouTube hit.

    Comment by Jana — October 18, 2011 @ 5:25 am


  6. Meh…You guys figured it out so as far as I’m concerned it goes in the “W” column. Now if we want to talk about real men of genius, we can try to figure out how I managed to lop through an extension cord this past weekend.

    Comment by Dave E. — October 18, 2011 @ 8:23 pm


  7. And my Auntie Marge tells me in an e-mail they had the same thing happen to them a while back, the offending smoke detector being found on the floor of a closet. Extension cords, smoke detectors, radar, sonar, electric toothbrushes. Technology is hell.

    Comment by The Great White Shank — October 18, 2011 @ 8:46 pm


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