Murphy's law, in Spades

                                Murphy’s Law, in Spades

         I was reading an online post from a friend, whose lakefront cottage south of Buffalo had flooded and the calamity that it caused. It made me think of a similar experience that we had experienced one winter.

        We were living in West Seneca, N.Y, when an unexpected January thaw caused an ice jam on Cazenovia creek, in the area behind the South Gate Plaza. The massive ice jam acted like a cork in a bottle in the rapidly rising creek. The water spilled over its banks flooding the surrounding area. The underlying, porous shale layer also facilitated the water’s rapid rise. The inrush of water overcame two sump pumps in our basement, shorting out everything electrical. The water kept rising. We left the home in the bucket of a high lift at 11:30 P.M that night. We made it to a nearby motel seeking quiet. Naturally, the knuckle head in the room next to ours was there to party, blasting tunes into the wee hours.

       The next day, the temps dropped to a chilly 15 degrees and everything froze solid. The Town of West Seneca, in its wisdom and eagerness to help its citizens, sent out its inspectors to padlock all of the inundated structures until electrical contractors could be brought in to effect repairs. The facility then had to pass muster, with one of the town’s contracted electrical inspectors, who only came by once a week. Thanks, fellas. May you experience the good will of people like yourselves when you least need it.

       During the rush to secure an electrical contractor, we of course picked the wrong one. He insisted that he needed to make a few thousand dollars in electrical repairs, not related to the flood, or he wouldn’t certify the home for occupancy. With a gun to our heads, in freezing temps, we paid the thief. I would find and settle up with him over the coming years.  Chasing down the town’s inspector came down to an out-right suggestion to the town officials that if the inspector didn’t stop by that day, I would bring the wrath of god down on them. The man came by and certified the home for occupancy.

      In a few days, we accomplished the mission of needed repairs and reoccupied the house, pumped out the basement and began the clean-up. Every utility in the basement was ruined, as was a great horde of personal belongings that we had stored there. It had gotten to be such a conglomeration of Murphy’s law, cluster screwups, that even we had to laugh after a time. You do need a sense of humor in adversity.

       In time, we fixed everything and settled down for the winter. The incident did give us a sense of perspective on life. Sometimes you can be cruising along in the fast lane, at seventy miles an hour. The next moment you find yourself with a flat tired, a blown-out engine and a wrecked car. Still, you have to keep on truckin’.

       My dad used to say that the family had developed a hard-won wisdom, acknowledging that when you got knocked down in life, you got right back up. And if you got knocked down again, you kept getting up until the opposition got tired. Then you waded on in and let them have it. You might not win all of the battles, but it made people think twice about messing with you. Ditto for the accumulated fates. Even they can be held at bay, if you keep going back after them. With this sage wisdom in mind, we shrugged off the incident and got for ready for the next tussle that would inevitably arrive. And we will weather that one too. Thanks dad, for the sound advice. 

                                         -30-

                                    (636 words)

                               Joseph Xavier Martin