HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO

The other day, while ripping up three levels of linoleum in our Victorian kitchen, I was engulfed with a cacophony of profound words coming from our not-so-Victorian boom box:
WHERE HAVE ALL THE GOOD MEN GONE AND WHERE ARE ALL THE GODS?
WHERE'S THE STREET-WISE HERCULES TO FIGHT THE RISING ODDS? ISN'T THERE A WHITE KNIGHT UPON A FIERY STEED? LATE AT NIGHT I TOSS AND TURN AND DREAM OF WHAT I NEED....I NEED A HERO! I'M HOLDING OUT 'TILL THE END OF THE NIGHT. HE'S GOTTA BE STRONG! AND HE'S GOT TO BE FAST! AND HE'S GOTTA BE FRESH FROM THE FIGHT!
Oh, Bonnie Tyler, you are so wise. Her words propelled me to start crow-barring (is that a word?) the second layer of 1970's gold and brown pattern linoleum and contemplating: do I have heroes?
Well, the answer is yes. Hello! I mean I have great friends that have many times been heroic. And of course, I married one of my favorite heroes in the world, next to Oscar Wilde, Harvey Milk, and Michael Phelps. But, do I have a hero that's " UP WHERE THE MOUNTAINS MEET THE HEAVENS ABOVE! OUT WHERE THE LIGHTNING SPLITS THE SEA. I WOULD SWEAR THAT THERE'S SOMEONE SOMEWHERE WATCHING ME?" Someone somewhere watching out for me?
Well yes. I do. And these prolific words of Bonnie Tyler showed me the light of the past three weeks at Chestnut House.
You see, the other day, Jon, my sister Carol, and I decided to replace the shattered, broken, boarded-up window in the front parlor room of the house. We had purchased a window from The Restore-Habitat for Humanity recycled home item store,in the East Bottoms. The window was huge. The opening for the window was not as huge. So, as I stood on the ladder trying to saw and pry the two windows from there window opening (they had forced a 1970's window over a 1920's old pulley frame) I slipped. And started to fall back but my sister Carol reacted fast and grabbed my backside to save me. Instead of just bracing me in my fall, she reached for fabric of my OP(Ocean Pacific, for the fashionable unknown) cargo shorts, but slipped and grabbed a handful of underwear. And PULLED. And pulled until my underwear was around my neck. She had saved me with a wedgie! A wedgie saved my life!
I then realized that I have had a hero watching out for me all of my life. This woman (who the other day was mistaken for my younger sister) had always been there for me. Through starting a theatre (stage managing 20 some shows), my many moves, and moods, and trips, and up and downs, Carol has been the constant hero. And now, Chestnut House is her next heroic effort. If it is ripping out walls, tearing up dirty pink 70's carpet, or putting in a new toilet (which involved a rotting toilet ring and clogged plumbing with funky bile) this woman is there for me. Whether she is channeling our dear deceased mother's ability to find the right tool for the project, or channeling our lesbian friends for strength and endurance, or channeling Carol Channing, Carol steps forward to be an Extreme Home Makeover, D.I.Y, HGTV, This Old House, kinda gal. A HERO. So, Bonnie Tyler, I am "holding out no more for a hero 'til the morning light." She is here.

Ron (and Jon, and Atticus, and Carol)