WHERE THERE'S SMOKE

There are the Palm Beach Gardens fire department.

Just when we thought things were "quieting down" . . . .    I was working on the computer last night and Ger was happily sitting in his favorite chair with the Yankees on TV.  Yep, you read that right . .  . The N Y Yankees base ball team was on our TV.  It is a wonder that Fox news got bumped for something else but the NY Yankees . . . ?  Ger's father was rolling in his grave that his son would be watching the HATED Yankees. But this brain radiation seems to be having some strange effects on my man so who am I to say.

Any way, I decided to search for something and as I left the bedroom I gave the wall switch a slap like I always do when I leave the room.  THE LIGHTS DID NOT GO OFF!  That didn't really catch me and I just kept going. Upon my return to the bed room a few minutes later I slapped the light switch again and AGAIN nothing happened. That caught my attention. I stopped and played with the switch for a minute until I realized there was a strange smell coming from the switch accompanied by a thin curl of smoke curling up from some where in the innards of the wall. I have to be honest in telling you that visions of FIRE engulfing my house whipped through my head in a matter of seconds. Along with the mantra of "OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT." I stepped into the den right out side our bedroom door and got Ger's attention. (I was a bit agitated and kept yelling turn off the TV!)  It did take him a few to realize I was in distress and not just trying to get him to turn off the TV.  I told Ger we had a fire and he needed to come look. With that I ran to the kitchen, grabbed the phone and an screw driver and headed back to the bedroom.

I have to tell you that while all this is going on and the visions of my house going up in flames is running through our heads the alternate vision is of the embarrassment of fire trucks racing up in front of our house, sirens blaring and lights flashing all for a small wisp of smoke. It is stupid, I know, but it was a factor in deciding whether to call 911 or not.
By now Ger was taking the switch plate off and when he burned his finger on the hot switch plate I dialled the phone.
"911 . . .  Police or Ambulance?"
"UMMM . . .  I have a switch plate that is smoking so I guess I need the fire department."
"Please hold"
"FIRE DEPARTMENT"
By then I was committed and the fire man was super nice and helpful. He asked it the smoke was filling the room . . . . I had to explain that the smoke was no longer even visible. But the nice man humored me and treated this very professionally.
Next thing our security guard from the community arrives, followed only moments later by 3 firemen and a silent, non lit up fire truck.  They checked the wall to make sure there was nothing smoldering in the wall, admired our house and took off back to the fire house to await the next crazy senior citizen with an emergency.

NEVER A DULL MOMENT !

OH, and the very funniest part . . . .  They wanted to know if Ger was an electrician because he knew to take off the switch plate and disconnect the switch from the wires !  Papa Danny would have been so proud of him!