Turning Minnesotan
October 14, 2009, by Christie Healey
For Christie Healey, adapting to the Midwest brings a new approach to life’s challenges.
Garrison Keillor, the Upper Midwest’s patron saint of wit, created a hometown for himself called Lake Woebegon, Minnesota. As the name suggests, there will always be woe, but how we respond is the key to when it will be gone. People in this neck of the woods face life’s inconvenient onslaughts with equanimity and acceptance. Former wrestler for governor? Well now he may have some good ideas, we’ll give him a chance. Massive influx of immigrants from Cambodia, Ethiopia, Somalia? Oh well, they’ve got to have somewhere to live. Message: don’t panic it may turn out alright.
There are many things to dismay a single woman in this world, but walking across your fully-carpeted basement family room and getting your feet wet is way up there for me. First reaction: denial. Must have donned wet house socks when I got up this morning and only just noticed. Second reaction: Hmmm. I commenced research into the problem. The long and winding road of discovery included: 1. Accusing Frankie (the cat) of being really, really, really naughty. 2. Chimney seal failure. My good friend and marvelous boss, Dan, came over, walked all over the roof and climbed up into my dusty attic. 3. Ripping up sodden carpet and thick wet underlay.
Pulling up carpeting and underlay also requires that you get it out of the house as quickly as possible. I managed the cutting and pulling part okay, but if any of you have ever been faced with ten by eight foot pieces of sodden heavy material you already know what comes next. It’s in the basement, steep steps and a hundred feet away from the garage, where I planned to temporarily dispose of it. The wrestling match that ensued might have been more fun if another person and a bed had been involved.
Halfway to the garage I fell and lay panting, spread-eagled across the heap. A regular passerby stopped to wish me a cheery “Good morning, might rain later.” I waved and nodded. The passerby asked if needed help, “Nooo-no,” I replied, “Nearly done now.”
The rain, when it came a day later, showed me the source of the problem. I was standing with the insurance adjuster who was assuring me in even mellow tones that none of the damage or repair was covered. Equally calm I nodded as he pointed out the exclusions in the policy. He offered to walk around the outside of the house with me in the pouring rain to see if he could help find the leak. We found it. The extension to a down-pipe from the guttering had fallen off and instead of running the water out to the street it was ponding by the foundation. I was infected by the adjuster’s obvious joy at the discovery and calmly reattached the extension. We watched the torrent resume its intended course. “Oh, sure, sure that’ll take care of it,” he yelled as he drove away. Woebegon indeed!
I thought as I dressed for work how differently I handled this problem, than in other years and times. No fervent questioning of the gods who could allow this to happen to me, no screaming epithets at my own idiocy in not discerning the obvious. I just accepted and got on with it. I am turning Minnesotan. When I heard that Barack Obama had been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize my immediate thought was, “Good Grief, is there any end to the burdens to be heaped upon this man?” Later that day hearing the calm tones in his gracious and humble words of acceptance, I thought, “He knows only too well the burdens that are placed on his shoulders and he’ll just get on with it.” There’s a little Minnesotan in all of us.
October 14th, 2009 at 7:05 am
Wow Christie, that Minnesotan calm must be some type of survival mechanism created by the heavens to keep you all from freezing your asses off. Congratulations to you and Mr. Obama for having the skill, the good sense and the confidence to “get on with it.” I know that there are great things ahead for all of us. Keep warm and stay cool.
October 14th, 2009 at 8:48 am
The image of you splayed out on a pile of soaked carpet as a neighbor passes by talking about the weather and oh by the way do you need any help…made me laugh out loud. Not at you my dear, in solidarity. I’ve had these experiences a plenty this past year, with heaps of apples, and other items requiring use of my wheel barrow. Learning curves to be sure and I will not be cowed. Minnesota lives in New Mexico too.
October 14th, 2009 at 3:09 pm
I knew it was an omen when my ex-husband gave me a sleeping shirt that said “Shit Happens” for Valentine’s Day. He was right. Shit was happening and I needed to open up my eyes and look it straight in the face. YUCH! OK, what next? As my dear mother used to say… “take the human footsteps… and onward and upward!” So after throwing “my present” in the trash,I got divorced and eventually, (and thankfully) discovered true love. Every experience we have teaches us something. It’s the staying cool part that’s the challenge…
October 14th, 2009 at 4:33 pm
Ahh–I only know too well the battle that ensues when the great outdoors decides to move indoors. Power outages, spiders, ants, mice, bats and critters of all stripe and hue, water, snow, mud, and with two dogs and three cats, we may as well live in a yurt. This all usually happens when Lee is on the road. Whaddayagonnado?
October 14th, 2009 at 7:25 pm
When our first floor was inundated with thousands of gallons of rising groundwater, an identical insurance adjuster appeared on the scene to tell us in the same chipper tones that none of the eventual $250,000 in damages was covered. None, zip, nada. Which begs the question: Does this guy go from state to state, disaster to disaster, to deny funds to premium-paying, besodden homeowners?
All I can say is that you handled your encounter with your insurance-adjuster-guy a helluva lot better than I did mine. I must admit that I went a little “California” on him.
October 15th, 2009 at 8:53 am
minnesota is a special place. enjoy it. you betcha!
October 15th, 2009 at 10:22 am
Hey–Remember that wonderful Diane Keaton movie, Baby Boom? She moves to Vermont and anything that can wrong with a house, just goes wrong? That’s what your story reminded of, Christie. Just without the kid and the applesauce….I’m still chuckling.
October 15th, 2009 at 10:49 am
When I was young, fully estrogenated and full of myself, I just didn’t “get” Garrison Keillor. Nowadays, I tune in every weekend to hear the news of Lake Woebegone. I also look forward to a daily dose of Keillor on his Writer’s Almanac, which airs twice a day on our local NPR station. This bite-sized program offers a little bit of heaven delivered in Keillor’s sonorous voice, which is second only to Walter Cronkite’s in trustworthiness.
October 15th, 2009 at 12:06 pm
Bless your heart, Mellimel, thanks for laughing with me. I think I deserve a picture of you and your barrow.
I do think of that Keaton film and only wish I could yell “cut.”
I do wonder what is covered by insurance. It seems to me that along with banks charging us interest on our own money, its one of the most puzzling con jobs that we all subscribe too. I wonder who insures the insurance adjusters because its a very dangerous job.
Garrison Keillor is demonically sly in his humor and lands some great punches on the liberally-challenged. But, its too much to live here and listen to PHC. My sister hears it on the Beeb in England and thinks its fab.
October 15th, 2009 at 4:22 pm
insurance companies or credit card companies–which one comes first on the list called Public Enemy #1? I can’t decide! Think I’ll let Obama do it.