“Hello?”

“Yes, hi Chris it is your brother”

“You know I have caller ID right?”

“Yes I am aware of that”

“Is Mom/your wife/your kids/everything else ok?”

“Yes”

“So you are just calling to say hi?”

“Yes”

Then it begins

“Well, seeing that all is well let me wish you a good day”

“And a good day to you sir”

“I thank you for your greeting and wish to send you well wishes of my own”

“Thank you for that, you are a goodly fellow”

“I see your goodly fellow and raise you that you a hail fellow well met”

“Your salutation is well received and I say bon chance”

“I accept your bon chance and counter with guten tag”

“Thank you for that and buenos dias to you kind sir”

“Thank you and I hope your day is festooned with goodness and jocularity”

“And I wish for you a day bedazzled with goodness and frivolity”

“I thank you and wish prosperous health”

“Your kind words are well received and I hope that your children are masculine”

There is about 20 minuted of this that goes on before one of us, usually me, just hangs up.

Well not middle, I was told by a fortune teller at the Renaissance Fair that I will only live untill 70 or so and seeing that my basic math skills are poor and I tend to round up I think my argument is valid.  I don’t go in for all the hocus-pocus scooby-doo mystery stuff but she was a full-on Gypsy. Maybe she was just from Austria, either way she was mysterious and had a cool accent and I was drunk.

I digress.

I have spent the better part of my 36 years on this planet guarding my groin from the errant baseball or the all to common punch from my 3 foot high nephew and lastly the dreaded bar on girls’ bikes. I have successfully guarded them against the angry girlfriend only to have my testicular protecting record shattered by me. I guess it is true that you are your own worst enemy, and the worst enemy of your balls as well.

I’m not sure who says that but it is true none the less.

I am still at a loss to imagine what satanic geometry, what demonic underwear malfunction allowed this but at 3:23 PM on 30 January 2010 in the year of our Lord I sat on my balls.

The pain was almost an aside to the shear horror of what took place. I felt as if my soul left my body and my heart stopped beating for a moment. I was embarrassed, sad and dare I say impressed at my reaction time. As I sat in my chair and events unfolded I almost made it to a full sitting position before my brain registered the pain and I lept in the air and spun 300 degrees (insert Nutcracker joke) . I landed and braced myself for the oncoming waves of pain.

I would not be walking this one off.

I thought about calling my doctor but as she is a woman I try not to have conversations that start with “so here is the deal with my balls”, I instead chose the internet. I found that many other men have done the same thing and more severely.

I went to the fridge and got some frozen corn niblets and proceeded to watch “The IT Crowd” series on Netflix.

No moral to this story, unless you count “Dont sit on your balls” a moral.

At midday I drive to Costco to get my favorite treat, a hotdog.

As I return my eyes widen as I witness him shoveling the ice from the street directly in front of his house . WTF? Nobody does this, its stupid and just plain wrong. I cant imagine, in my wildest dreams doing something so silly and truly odd. Standing in the middle of the street on shoveling ice and slush while avoiding the odd car that might pass. Its the kinda thing that brings the police and gets you a 72 hour vacation at the state hospital. Have I driven him to this? Have my taunts and stink eyes pushed him over the edge?

I watch him , relishing the state of dementia that I have seemed to unleashed upon him. I start to feel bad, but then I pick up Sun Tzu’s “the art of war” and keep reading. Even 13th century Chinese warfare can help me.

Today was a victory, though a sad one a victory non the less.

Not me, I must defend my tittle as snow-master of Wilow street. This is a title that I was born to maintain. Now I’m not saying that I’m Neo, I’m not “the one” nor am I the golden child that will fight the forces of evil.

I’m just saying.

As I get a few minutes into the work he appears. I wonder what a seasoned shoveler is doing. All the other neighbors with experience have stayed in knowing that the heat will do the job for them. Yet here we are, my nemesis and me.Two grown men locked in a battle that is altogether silly and fruitless. Yet we shovel.

As I have said he has a smaller driveway and finishes earlier than me.

I tell him he made quick work of his driveway and that because its so small maybe he was to come over and do part of mine to get a real work out. My words have the effect they were meant to have, my barbs have passed his defenses and sunk deep into his flesh.

Huzzah!

My driveway(here forth know as my thunderdome) is filled with a slushy mixture that will melt as soon as the sun comes up. Doesn’t matter, I shovel.

I hear his garage door open, I see that the early hour of our meeting has give me the edge,Huzzah!

The kids going to school choose to walk on my side of the street rather than that icy bog he has on his side. Victory is mine!

I bid him a hale fellow well met, I do this by raising my shovel in a mock salute after which I turn on my heel on enter my garage. A job well done, a battle won.He no longer is the snow-master of Willow street. There’s a new sheriff in town and he has the uncanny ability to take a silly imagined slight and turn that into an epic struggle between good and evil.

I hear a few people trudging though the slosh. How would be out at this time, the kids! The kids walking to the school bus. He is cleaning his sidewalk in hopes that the kids will walk on his sidewalk.

I start on my sidewalk but it is too late. You win this battle but the forecast calls for more snow and I know now the rules!

Ill see you at 5 am tomorrow. I know its early but Ill pull an all-nighter, whatever I need to do. The fight is on, sides have been chosen.

We are snow-warriors. Snow wars are a long forgotten tradition where grow men with nothing better to do fight against each other and mother nature, and she truly is a bitch.

At least that’s what Wikipedia told me.

I never said that! I might have thought that though.

He doesn’t come out until I do, kinda like dueling banjos. As music from deliverance is playing in my head I begin to shovel. After finishing 3/4’s of my driveway I look at his driveway and he is standing there with a clean driveway casting disdain my way.

Hey dude, your driveway is half the size of mine of course you will finish first.

I thought yesterdays misunderstanding was just a forgotten gaff now I see that the gloves are off!