| It’s a tough job being a Hammerhaid |
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By: MIKE WEST, Managing Editor
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Posted: Sunday, December 13, 2009 4:05 am
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It’s tough being a Hammerhaid, particularly during the holiday season.
Maybe that’s why the bosses at the Post have a particularly vexing project for him?
And what is that project?
Helping find and identify the “best and brightest” Christmas Brites.
It’s not an easy job for H-haid and his volunteer staff, particularly during this austere year.
“Maybe I am ahead of the game, but it just doesn’t seem like we have the same quantity and quality of Christmas decorations during 2009?” he said following Monday night’s search.
The H-man and crew headed out to Salem Cove, but ended up out in Berkshire for no apparent reason.
Hmmmm, maybe it was because Betty Lou was pilot and Hammerhaid was relegated to the back seat?
And why was that?
Oh, it did make a little sense. Riding in a car with Hammerhaid behind the wheel is a little mind rattling in normal conditions. But when it comes to the H-man prowling the town for Christmas lights, it gets a little, ummmm, crazy.
Okay, a lot crazy with wrong side of the road driving accompanied by hootin’ and hollerin.’
So Hammerhaid was stuck in the back seat in Betty Lou’s big, ol’ Caddy. Yep, the one with the Florida style window tinting.
Yep, with the huge seats in front and all that jazz, H-haid could barely see out. The window tinting was so strong that even the brightest lights were just a very pale flicker.
Took him a while to figger that out.
Why? Because in addition to the dark tinting job, the back seat’s windows and doors were on child lock.
In other words.... Hammerhaid couldn’t see &^%$%, and he couldn’t roll down the windows or open the car door if he did actually see a glimmer of light.
“Might as well be in the back of a paddy wagon,” he grumbled.
While he was fussing in the backseat, Betty Lou and her mom were praising the light displays.
“Ohhhhh, look at that crèche display. How beautiful! Don’t you want to get a photo of that honey?” Betty Lou said enthusiastically from the front seat.
Hammerhaid looked over at the display. He could just barely see it. He could barely see Santa Claus peeking down from the top floor of the house, and the rest was just blurry, pinpoints of pale white light. And he certainly didn’t know that a crèche was what he called “Baby Jesus” in the manger.
“Naw, I don’t reckon I do,” he answered disgustedly.
There was no way he could get even a halfway decent shot of the display. It looked pitiful. But in the spirit of cooperation, he attempted to roll down the window and when that failed, open the door. Blocked completely, he told Betty Lou to head on down the street where he spotted a small glimpse of what appeared to be a beautiful red and white and blue house.
But when Betty Lou got there, the house was a pale imitation of holiday glory.
Hammerhaid fired a shot, but the house barely showed up. The frame was jet black with a few pale pinpoints of light.
“This is pitiful,” he murmured from the confines of the back seat.
And so it went. It was an endless time for Hammerhaid (make that five or 10 minutes), but eventually he figgered it out when Betty Lou lowered his window and a home’s Christmas glory was finally revealed.
“Let me out, let me OUT!” he demanded.
And that’s how he got those fantastic (ummm) shots of Santa in a NASCAR stock car that appeared Tuesday on the Post’s web site.
Now, back to work. And keep those nominations coming in.
T-t-t-t-that’s r-r-r-r-r-right. |
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