Background

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

MY FABLE OF OZ


Once upon a time a young gal lived in a place called Plumberville (a place where real plumbers are expensive). A lot of Munchkins (workers) also live in Plumberville. A few Munchkins were so talented and smart, they were elevated to the level of Ozzie-Munchkins (so knighted by The Great Oz). These Ozzies handled all the tasks that the younger and less experienced Munchkins couldn't do.

One day the gal had a problem and called one of the Munchkins to fix the water valve in her closet (water closet to you seadogs). An Ozzie-Munchkin appeared at her door and, with one hand tied behind his back, attempted to replace the valve.

This particular Ozzie-Munchkin was such a busy, talented urchin that his time is always limited because he wears so many hats. He was foretold to be a communication-Ozzie, but sometimes forgets to be communicative. He used to be a fire-Ozzie, but that hat has been put on the back of the shelf for a more technical hat of late.

After the gal's closet was checked, she later found the drips of tears running down the Valley of Hose. If you've never been to the Valley of Hose, she can tell you it's a place of a white road with a grey celestial sky and a silver tip (the hose that connects the water outlet to the tank). It's not a place she can go by herself, because doing so causes pancake-itis (flattened boob lying across the seat to reach the tank bottom). She learned this once and won't return.

While the gal waits patiently for the Ozzie to control and prioritize the six lives within himself right now, the tears no longer drip because she was smart enough to seal the closet from all comers and seers. She banished herself to the Workers (laundry) Room awaiting a sign from above that the Great Oz has granted her audience – that she might witness the transformation of tears to the sounds of gentle smiles and cool running lakes (the toilet flushing again).

She can but dream, and dream she does, because time is precious and pancake-itis will be no more.

The moral of this fable be: Oh Great Son Oz, FIX THE DAMN THING!

(P.S. For all who wonder: The laundry room also has the spare toilet in the house.)