In case you’re looking, I moved… The Door

This is my brain on caffeine and AC/DC. See? Nothing.

This is my brain on caffeine and AC/DC. See? Nothing.

I often listen to AC/DC when I’m writing, especially if it’s early in the morning. At this particular moment, “For Those About to Rock” is thundering toward its big finish as guitars, vocals and drums whip the live audience into a frenzy. On most mornings, that — along with coffee, and lots of it — is enough to engage my brain. But the moment I tried sticking the ear phone jack into my left ear canal instead of my iPad, I knew something was wrong, and that even AC/DC wasn’t going to help me this morning.

Some of you know, in addition to being a columnist, I’m also a volunteer firefighter. Though it’s been quiet lately, last night we had two tap outs. The first was at 10 p.m. for a small wildfire that took us a couple of hours to put out. The next call was a structure fire at 1 a.m. that turned out to be a false alarm. Final bed time: 1:45 a.m.

When my alarm went off at 4:45, I put my pants on backwards and slid my feet into my wife’s high heels.

Things pretty much went downhill from there.

I have big plans for this week’s edition of The Door. The kind of plans that require a fully functional brain. Though an argument could be made — and in fact has been — that I get by without a fully functioning brain on a daily basis, I have decided to move The Door to Thursday this week and, in its place, run the column that newspaper readers won’t be seeing until tomorrow. That’s right! You’ve got the jump on thousands of newspaper subscribers who, at this time tomorrow, will be saying to themselves, “Where is the Fred Meyer insert?!”

My substitute for The Door will be posting momentarily, just as soon as I figure out where I stuck my stylus.

Thanks for you patience, everyone.

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27 thoughts on “In case you’re looking, I moved… The Door

    • I wish I could. Deadline day here at the paper. Then FF training tonight. But after that, when my head hits the pillow… I’m going to sleep like a baby.

      As long as my pager doesn’t go off…

  1. Ned
    Another way to say you are a volunteer fireman is you are a “heat seeker” so just get up turn on the light with a “flick of the switch” go downstairs and “give the dog a bone” while avoiding disturbing your wife because you know that is the “highway to hell”

    Speaking “for those about to rock, we salute you” Ned. Now get out there and “chase the ace”

  2. You’re forgiven only because you are a volunteer firefighter!! Fuckin hey bro!

    That cancels any doubt of your manly hood that you tried to defend whilst fighting giant morphing spider-rodents thingies underneath your house.

  3. I think there is a fire here, in my house. Right now. You better come check. LOL. As you arrive I will be shooting you with a tranquilizer dart. SLEEP. You wife (because of my past mistakes) will be fully aware of where you are. I learned THAT lesson once.

    • Hahaha! Trust me, by the time my head hit the pillow last night after our weekly FF drill, no tranqilizer was necessary! And no calls! But the next time my pager goes off, I’ll look for a well-intentioned woman with a dart gun 😉

No one is watching, I swear...

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