Desktop confessionals
Posted by Bob McGovern
(This is a column I wrote for the Express Newspapers of Whitman and Hanson this week)
About two months ago, my publisher gave me a desk. It was a fine piece of IKEA-esque craftsmanship and I knew that it was the one missing component of my then-barren room.
The 200-pound rectangle had to somehow get from Point A (the office) to Point B (my room) and the only way to do this would be to fit it into the back of my Jeep and squeeze the door shut. My editor and I looked at the geometric problem and decided to use the age-old male chauvinistic solution - force the desk in and slam the door shut.
Bingo, once again matter defeated mind. Or did it?
When I got home that night, I went to the back of my car and tested the handle. Nothing. “All right, let’s have at it again,” I thought to myself.
Nothing. Nothing? Nothing!
That’s right, the desk was stuck in the back and I was suddenly relegated to a two-seater.
I thought I would have time to just take the desk out, but my responsibility as sportswriter for this establishment made it semi-difficult to get it done. I would drive all over the state, covering basketball, hockey, and most recently cheerleading. The whole while, my large rectangular friend sat in the back, serenading me with its drawers as they slammed shut at every turn.
This desk was a well-travelled one, it went down to Bourne on three separate occasions, twice to see the Whitman-Hanson hockey team compete in the Division II South Sectional Tournament. In fact, after the Panthers were eliminated in overtime by Franklin, I filed my game notes away in the top right drawer - I figured I might as well get some use out of it while it was in there.
It has seen North Andover and Taunton as I followed the cheerleaders’ spectacular run from the South Sectional Championship, to their fifth place finish in States. On my way to North Andover I had to make a sharp turn to get off the highway, sure enough whatever remained in the drawers made its way to my floor.
On my trip to cover the men’s basketball team, I kept the ultra-confusing directions to Dartmouth in the bottom drawer, because my boss let me use his TomTom Go navigation tool. As I went back home, “Ride Wit’ Me” by Nelly came on the radio and the wooden side served as mypersonal drum set (yes, I said Nelly, I’m getting old).
As the winter season began to die down, I found myself with more time, and with this more opportunities to remove the desk. Of course, being the procrastinator I am, I decided to just wait and put it off for just the right time.
I was on my way to Hanson, to interview Athletic Director Jim Daley, when all of a sudden I heard an enormous “Crack!” I pulled over, looked in the back of my car, and saw that the desk was somehow outgrowing my car and had cracked the interior lining.
The next day, I dropped $55 to have it removed. The blind spot was gone and so was my back seat office.
One of the most well-traveled desks in Massachusetts was back home where it started, with miles of high school sports embedded in its semi-glossy finish.
(This is a column I wrote for the Express Newspapers of Whitman and Hanson this week)
About two months ago, my publisher gave me a desk. It was a fine piece of IKEA-esque craftsmanship and I knew that it was the one missing component of my then-barren room.
The 200-pound rectangle had to somehow get from Point A (the office) to Point B (my room) and the only way to do this would be to fit it into the back of my Jeep and squeeze the door shut. My editor and I looked at the geometric problem and decided to use the age-old male chauvinistic solution - force the desk in and slam the door shut.
Bingo, once again matter defeated mind. Or did it?
When I got home that night, I went to the back of my car and tested the handle. Nothing. “All right, let’s have at it again,” I thought to myself.
Nothing. Nothing? Nothing!
That’s right, the desk was stuck in the back and I was suddenly relegated to a two-seater.
I thought I would have time to just take the desk out, but my responsibility as sportswriter for this establishment made it semi-difficult to get it done. I would drive all over the state, covering basketball, hockey, and most recently cheerleading. The whole while, my large rectangular friend sat in the back, serenading me with its drawers as they slammed shut at every turn.
This desk was a well-travelled one, it went down to Bourne on three separate occasions, twice to see the Whitman-Hanson hockey team compete in the Division II South Sectional Tournament. In fact, after the Panthers were eliminated in overtime by Franklin, I filed my game notes away in the top right drawer - I figured I might as well get some use out of it while it was in there.
It has seen North Andover and Taunton as I followed the cheerleaders’ spectacular run from the South Sectional Championship, to their fifth place finish in States. On my way to North Andover I had to make a sharp turn to get off the highway, sure enough whatever remained in the drawers made its way to my floor.
On my trip to cover the men’s basketball team, I kept the ultra-confusing directions to Dartmouth in the bottom drawer, because my boss let me use his TomTom Go navigation tool. As I went back home, “Ride Wit’ Me” by Nelly came on the radio and the wooden side served as mypersonal drum set (yes, I said Nelly, I’m getting old).
As the winter season began to die down, I found myself with more time, and with this more opportunities to remove the desk. Of course, being the procrastinator I am, I decided to just wait and put it off for just the right time.
I was on my way to Hanson, to interview Athletic Director Jim Daley, when all of a sudden I heard an enormous “Crack!” I pulled over, looked in the back of my car, and saw that the desk was somehow outgrowing my car and had cracked the interior lining.
The next day, I dropped $55 to have it removed. The blind spot was gone and so was my back seat office.
One of the most well-traveled desks in Massachusetts was back home where it started, with miles of high school sports embedded in its semi-glossy finish.
This entry was posted by Ben Myers, on
Friday, March 24, 2006.
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9:28 AM
Thanks for the chuckle. I could just picture it. I especially loved the part where the drawers opened and closed as you drove around corners.
Last summer I go something out of my minivan's trunk but the door wouldn't shut again, so I gave it a good slam and it closed. Then I couldn't open it. Come to find out I had smashed my eyeglass case (with $350 prescription eyeglasses) right into the latch part of the door. After some struggling my husband got the hatchback door open and we found the mangled case. By some miracle the smashed metal eyeglass case protected the glasses. Phew.
I also learned the lesson that cramming stuff in and jamming doors shut is not always a good idea.
4:45 PM
Haha, yes it was a pretty rough situation... what I didn't mention was that the desk had been in the truck for 3 months before I took it out. Thanks for the comment and thank goodness for small miracles (your near impervious glasses-case).
Regards