High Points

 

            Kim’s daughter and her family at dinner would sometimes exchange the “high point” and the “low point” of their day. Maybe they made this up, or maybe they copied it from a movie – I don’t know. I know that my family didn’t do it, for announcing a “high point” of my day or week at dinner would open the door to a barrage of sarcasm that I would just as soon avoid.

 

            But it’s an exercise worth pursuing. Kim and I don’t do it, but maybe it’s time we did. Anyway, here are a few examples of my high points for the last week or so.

 

Fixing the television. Kim and I were watching a movie on Amazon Prime when suddenly the image on the screen froze. I pushed a few of my favorite buttons on the remote – nothing. I tried Netflix – also nothing. Turned off everything and turned it on again – nothing. So, I telephoned our cable company and got a human being fairly quickly. She said she would turn off my internet connection and turn it on again, and in about five minutes everything should be working. She would send me a text when it was reconnected. She did. And we resumed watching our movie, thanks to my television repair efforts.

 

Finding the popcorn. Sometimes Kim and I snack when watching evening television, and we decided one night to make popcorn. We hadn’t done that for several months, and Kim told me that we had somehow run out of popcorn. Undeterred, I got down on my hands and knees in front of the Lazy Susan, and yes! – there it was! To understand why this was a high point, you have to be aware of my affliction with Male Pattern Blindness. Not only do I miss what’s right in front of my eyes (How often has Kim advised me, “Use your eyes!”), but I also seem to enjoy putting things away where neither of us can find them. But that night, I found something that Kim couldn’t see! And I could not resist telling her, “Use your eyes!” The problem, of course, was not with her eyes, but with her knees – she had trouble getting down to see the whole bottom shelf of the Lazy Susan, where I had hidden the popcorn months ago.

 

Fixing the coffee grinder. It had simply stopped grinding, so I ordered another one. When it arrived, I found in its instruction manual where it said how to clean it. I followed the instructions, which involved partially disassembling the machine, and I put it back together. It worked! High point! The next day I pushed the button to grind some more, and the machine was again dead. Kim stopped me from trying to fix it again and told me to go get the new one. Sort of a high point, as my responsibility was lifted. So, the experience yields two high points: one when I fix the grinder, and one when I throw it away.

 

Fortunately, I have several repair and maintenance high-point opportunities ahead. Twice this week, in the middle of the night, alarms went off in the basement of our house.

 

Caregiver bonus. The role of caregiver has its own rewards, but this high point involved a bonus. Kim often has a very sore back, and sometimes I can rub or massage it to help ease the pain. It feels good to help. Sometimes, in addition, I find myself noticing my hands touching Kim’s skin, and if I maneuver properly, I can feel her hair caressing my hand or, if I’m agile enough, my cheek. This gives an erotic boost to my caregiver high point.

 

My ten-year-old car hit 130,000 miles. Why that counts as a high point is not clear, but it was and is.

 

            It occurs to me, as I read this over, that I have achieved, through my writing, a genre called “Unintended Self-Parody.” This is one of the few things I share with Donald Trump.

 

            Low points? Just follow the news.