Easy as falling off a barn

Today, We Honor The Overall Man Classic Bill Mead

Reprinted with permission

When I was growing up in Iowa, we could predict that at least once a year some old farmer in our county would end up in the hospital from falling off a roof. Usually it was a barn roof but almost any steep, slippery slope would satisfy these relics' need to prove they were as good as they ever were.

Over the years I have told my wife of this peculiarity of antiquated Iowa farmers. I should have kept my mouth shut because she has now lost patience with her 70-year-old spouse who has been building a new woodshed and has a sprung torso to show for it. I haven't fallen and broken a hip only because my rib cage began hurting like sin right after I had nailed down the roof sheeting. That was three weeks ago and I still have a painful stitch in my gitalong.

This construction project will soon be a year in the making, as are most of my carpentry efforts. It takes me a long time because I can't read blueprints, let alone draw them. Every time I grab a hammer and saw, I'm winging it. As a result, nothing I build ends up the way I envisioned at the start. My wife is always amazed when I produce something halfway decent because I am never able to describe ahead of time what it will look like. That's because I don't know myself.

Probably my worst flaw is a tendency to overbuild-to use more and heavier materials than I need. After I ordered the material for my woodshed at the local lumber yard, the lady manager called to ask where I planned to erect the high-rise office building. She said I could not have the massive timbers I ordered because they weren't necessary. I hate it when women turn out to be right about stuff they aren't supposed to understand.

My woodshed is the biggest thing I have ever tried to build. If you don't stand to close, it even looks good. I have to give much of the credit to tips from Bob Vila, whom I watch religiously on television even though he makes me mad when everything he does fits perfectly. When I get in the construction mode, I have a tendency to produce a lot of fireplce kindling due to faulty measurements.

I'm thinking of an open house party when the woodshed is finished. All that's left to do is put on shingles. Since my wife is now watching my every move, I better leave that up to my roofing consultant, Rick, who is half my age.

Still I bought another stepladder and a couple of planks.....

If you don’t know Bill: Bill Mead was the longtime publisher of the Tehachapi News, along with Betty Mead, his wife and partner of more than 50 years. Known for his keen wit, which could be gentle or scathing or somewhere in between but was often self-deprecatory, Bill’s writing won him a wide following among News readers. His column “The Overall Picture” ran in the News for more than 25 years, and in 1999 he published a collection of his columns in a volume entitled The Napa Valley Outhouse War. His book is currently available for sale at the Tehachapi Museum for $10.

Bill had a remarkable mind and because of his intelligence, humor and appearance he was regarded by many as Tehachapi’s Mark Twain. As Betty used to remind him, he was “older than the oldest Model A Ford” and his wealth of life experiences and rural upbringing allowed him to bring a thoroughly American, 20th century perspective to his reflections and musings on the everyday. Bill passed away in 2008 but his writing lives on.

[Publisher’s note: I read Bill’s articles during the 80s and 90s and 20s and I am grateful to share them now with our current readers. I hope you enjoy this touch of nostalgia as much as I do.]