Fibber McGee’s Freezer

 

The younger generation might not have a clue as to the reference made in the title.  There was an old radio show from back in my childhood that we’d listen to, Fibber McGee and Molly. Getting to hear these radio shows gave me a glimpse of how my folks grew up.

This was the tail end of a long running radio gig from the vaudevillian age that ran from the 1930s on through when I was growing up in the late-1950s.   One of the featured events during the show was the sound of objects, many objects falling to the floor when Fibber McGee would open the closet.  That closet stored all manner of items stuffed in helter-skelter, stacked precariously on each other and yet balanced to precision temporarily.

Opening the closet door to remove even one item would upset the delicate balance and there would follow a horrific avalanche, at least that’s what we would hear as the radio created the scene for listeners. Radio shows, much like books, permitted the listener to imagine what was being presented for their entertainment. Television has robbed us of our imagination to some degree as special effects professionals apply their skills in such a way as to leave no doubt as to what mayhem has taken place.

This morning while catching up on social media, comfortably positioned with my bed pillow tucked behind my neck, there came a thundering sound from the other side of the house.  Heavy items were striking the floor in random commotion while muffled words of displeasure followed.

“Are you alright, Dear?”  I asked as best I could, being a naturally sarcastic husband.

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine.” This was followed by a few more thuds as items reached the floor.

I cautiously left the comfort of our bedroom and ventured toward the kitchen area.  Lucy had frozen salmon, frozen hot dogs, frozen steaks, frozen butter, and I’m not sure what that other frozen item was scattered on the floor in front of the freezer.

“I had to get the ribs out for when the Sister Missionaries were coming over for dinner this evening.”  Lucy was attempting to place each item back onto one of the shelves in the freezer; but the perfect fit, based on how each became a frozen mass when placed into the freezer, that perfect fit no longer existed. Lucy would place several items onto the shelf only to have the first items slide out and fall to the floor.

I’ve distanced myself from the kitchen area; hiding out in the office where I can document today’s efforts. Occasionally I’ll ask, “Are you okay, Dear?”, quietly and without too much sarcasm just to let her know I love her.