I was up late last night, twittering through “The Late Show,” the best way to watch Letterman, and awoke past the dawn to discover a delightful missive, a kind of plumbing noir note, left inside the TP wheelbarrow, placed atop the closed loo. The empty wheelbarrow was a first clue to the mishap that must have unfolded in the wee morning hours. The note, pictured above, elegantly written, including exclamation points fore-and-aft a cap rigged Danger, follows, in its entirety:
! DANGER !
NOT FLUSHING
VERY WELL,
? ?
Plumbers are not usually prescriptivists, recognizing options. I called in Long and Shorty. Shorty did the trick.
The note, marvelously ambiguous, understated in its use of only two question marks, where a more excitable writer might have been inclined to exaggerate with three or more, though not if they were in a hurry, now sits on my desk, offering no apology to William Carlos Williams:
…so much depends upon, this is just to say, notes, fore-and-aft
There is much danger inherent in plumbing and poetry, fully suggested by the writer of the pink bordered note.
Poems referenced in this post: “The Red Wheelbarrow” and “This is Just to Say,” both by W. C. Williams.
Related Posts: E. B. White and the plumber; The Postman Always Rings Twice, the Plumber Rarely More Than Once
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