In Which We Conclude the Story of the Slate Roof, the Paint Scraper and the Wasps

1. Welcome to the latest Summary of Mishaps. As you probably recall, as of two weeks ago, your summarian of mishaps was perched on a slate porch roof with questionable traction, clutching a second-story eave overhead with one hand, a large paint scraper in the other hand, and eying a pair of inquisitive wasps who were wondering what had happened to their nest.

We asked what you would have done, and promised to reveal the conclusion to this little do-it-yourself drama. The response was terrific. I could tell it was a success when both my boss and our public affairs officer, who are also on the funnies feedback email list, started complaining that their mailboxes were getting full.

A. The most common reply was “Get some wasp spray” (28 percent). This was, of course, the logical and sensible thing to do, assuming you had climbed up there to begin with. It wasn’t what I did.

B. Next, in descending order, was “Get some scaffolding” (15 percent), followed by “Defend yourself with the scraper” (11 percent). “I would have done my world-famous King Kong imitation, using my scraper to swat the little planes buzzing around me,” one explained.

“Definitely use your large scraper as a defense mechanism while at the same time using your free hand to wave at the neighbors who were probably laughing at you,” another added.

C. “Hire someone else” was suggested by 11 percent. One wrote, “As a retired Navy guy, I would have made one of my kids do it.” Two of the “Climb down and regroup” (8 percent) contingent quoted Monty Python ("Run away! Run away!”), citing either a fear of or allergy to stings.

D. At the other extreme was “Ignore the wasps” (7 percent). “I would keep on trucking until I was actually stung,” one said, and then observed that he wasn’t sure that would have stopped him, either. Another said, “I can’t define my exact actions given your situation, but I’m sure ‘Damn the torpedoes’ would characterize them.”

One guy said that he would have had the old paint tested for lead and ended up “fully equipped with respirator, Tyvek bunny suit, gloves and full-face respirator,” in which case he would just take the stings.

E. Numerous interesting responses were among the remaining 20 percent of miscellaneous silliness, which I need to share so that you all have a better understanding of your fellow Friday Funnies readers.

One said he would back up his 4-wheel-drive lifted F-250 to the porch, start a “small but manageable smoky fire” in the truck bed to calm the wasps, then put an extension ladder in the truck bed and continue working. One guy would have skipped the truck and just lit the boxwood and holly on fire to smoke ‘em out. An exciting suggestion was to grab a can of WD-40 and a Bic lighter (“and then call the fire department,” he added).

Two people said I should have asked someone to grab a video camera.

F. A respondent who described herself as “a Sailor for many years and now a proud wife and mother of Sailors” said she would have spent 20 minutes futilely trying to talk her husband and/or son out of the task. She would have made sure the first aid kit was fully stocked, picked up anything sharp that someone could fall onto, and ordered some scaffolding. She would have gathered bug spray, sun block, safety goggles and gloves. Then she would have dialed “9” and “1” on her cell phone and held a finger over that last “1” while safely observing from a shady spot 20 feet away.

G. One took issue with the premise, quoted in our original message, that “hindsight is not wisdom.” He asked, “What is hindsight but learning from other people's experiences? I don't believe there has been a strategy session in the history of the world that did not involve some degree of second-guessing—at least not a strategy session that didn't involve a mission that ended in complete and utter failure, anyway.”

H. So what did I do? I was among the fearless and/or foolhardy 11 percent who opted for the scraper as a weapon. I had quickly detected a flaw in the wasp flight plan: they kept hovering a couple feet away, which provided a perfect opportunity to swat both of them, one at a time. Poink! Poink! Got each one in turn with one swing apiece.

2. Several respondents were convinced that I fell off the roof, but I finished the scraping, caulking and the painting without incident. I wasn’t comfortable, though, and I know exactly what I would have written in response to a mishap report about somebody who “fell off roof while flailing at wasps with a scraper.” So, all together now, everyone: “It takes one to know one.” Truer words were never spoke.
Life is full of tough decisions. It is probably best that I’m at a keyboard most of the time. See you next week.