Why Do Today...What Can Be Put Off Till Tomorrow

In my last post I said I would be posting on Fridays. It's now Sunday Tuesday Thursday a week later on Saturday. My lack of motivation got me thinking about procrastination and it's effect on my life. Avoiding things seems to be one of my special talents. I've always done it, and Mrs Denotsko will testify to my proficiency at it. 'In a minute' seems to be my catchphrase. Through my contemplation I started to remember a lot of major transformations in my life that were brought on by procrastination. I guess most of the pivotal decisions of my past were induced by the avoidance of making a decision. If that makes sense to anyone but me. Let me elaborate.

Sixth Grade: 1985

We were given six weeks to prepare a project for the science fair. Science was the one class that I consistently pulled an A in, but through procrastination, I had successfully avoided the task until the day before the fair was to begin. I knew that most of my classmates had been feverishly working on such things as growing beans upsidedown in the dark and splitting atoms, so there was no chance of building a winning project in 24 hours. I had been given an electronics kit the previous Christmas that allowed one to build 101 electronic gizmos, so that was were I started. My favorite gizmo was a High Voltage Generator. It was powered by a AAA battery and could generate about 12 volts of harmless pulsing electricity. Through a little trial and error I found that by replacing the AAA battery with a 9 volt battery and some of the other components with beefier ones, I could generate about 36 volts of pulsing, muscle cramping voltage. Holding the wires between my fingers would cause the muscles in my arms to flex and relax with steady rhythm. It was relatively painless, but quite a strange sensation. This would be my science fair entry.

The next day, I sat at my table in the gym with my stuff. Looking around the room, I could see elaborate diorama displays that obviously took many, many hours to build. I had no display, no hypothesis, no experiment, no conclusion, no research. I only had a square piece of cardboard with a shoe box and two metal bottle caps glued to it. The box contained all the guts of the device. There were two wires hidden beneath the cardboard and attached to the bottom side of the caps, which I had filled with salt water. A simple, hand written sign said "Place fingers in bottle caps." For a long time, no one even noticed me sitting there. It was definitely not the most eye catching display and showed very little potential.

It was a small school, where everyone new everyone. I was known to be a good student, but everyone that knew me also knew my potential for evil. The lack of embellishment displayed by my sign, combined with the malicious smile on my face eventually drew someone to my table. Mrs. Murkley was a third grade teacher and looked as if she was the result of a bulldog, waterbuffalo love affair. I had puked into her lap once after a chili eating contest, and she had hated me ever since. There were rumors that she was a fugitive from the law for eating a kid in Texas. She looked like she could have eaten 3 or 4 kids.

She had passed by a few times and given me that stern, disapproving, if you would just apply yourself you could do so much better, eyes burning a hole through my soul stare. She always made my blood run cold when she looked at me. This time she stopped and really looked at my display.

"What is this supposed to be?"

"A science fair. Where have you been?"

"You're not funny. Why did you even bring this? Her face was framed by fat flabby cheeks that drooped and swung from side to side. If she was capable of running, I'm sure you could hear them slapping against the triple chin that girdled her invisible neck.

"Well, read the sign."

"I read the sign Brian. What does it do?"

I answered with silence. Hoping she would lose interest and leave. She scared me and I wasn't sure how long I could maintain the tough guy act. I would eventually twitch or sweat and she would pounce on the display of weakness and destroy me. She stared into my eyes for what seemed like forever. Scanning my face for anything that would hint at the function of my project.

She stepped closer, looking at the shoebox. "What's in the box?"

"My secret ingredient." Like fishing, I fed out a little line. Would she bite?

"What's in the bottle caps?"

"Water."

Before I could even realize what was happening, she had her index fingers in the caps. As they broke the surface of the water her eyes opened wide. An electric current as small as 100 milliamps can kill if it travels the right path through the body. I had no clue at the time, but my shocker applied voltage perfectly along the right path. Flowing electrons follow the path of least resistance. In the human body, veins and arteries filled with salty blood are that path. An arc of current quickly traveled up the brachial artery into her armpit, across her heart, and out the other arm. She dropped like a stone. I sat staring at her, frozen with confusion.

Mr. Douglas, the P.E. teacher and Mrs. Coffee, the school nurse turned to see where the GLRUUUMPHH sound had come from. They saw Mrs. Murkley on her fat, beanbag knees. She was clutching her chest and sweating, but her eyes never left mine. She was growing redder and redder. As she began to see-saw into unconsciousness she seized and convulsed. Pulsating waves of body fat ran the length of her body. She looked like puddle that had just caught a stone.

Both witnesses were CPR instructors and immediately went to work. Mr. Douglas rolled her onto her back and began chest compressions as I was pulled from my chair and pushed toward the door. All the students were sent to the far end of the gym and we were all ushered into the hall. No one had seen what preceded the collapse. No one knew but me and her.

Mrs. Murkley recovered. She was hospitalized for a few weeks and had heart surgery. Not because of damage I had caused, but due to the thick bacon grease that clogged her heart. I had just precipitated the discovery of it. She was still in the hospital when summer vacation started and I was never asked about the incident. The next year I moved on to junior high school and never saw her again. She lived for another ten years and finally died after I was out of school.

It was this event that began a lifetime of fascination with electricity. If it wasn't for almost killing Mrs. Murkley that day, I might have been a lawyer or something.