Story 75: Hi hoe, Hi hoe, it's off to work I go

My first apartment was in Bayside, New York and I had an old fashioned oven that you had to light the pilot in order for it to work. I however was afraid it would blow up, and as a result I never used it even once. In fact, I would get letters from the gas company to the effect, “Dear Mr. Levine we are showing zero gas usage. Is anything wrong?”  How could I tell them I was afraid it would  kill me?  My friend Sam did one better, because he never used the oven or the dishwasher in the all years he lived in his apartment.

That apartment had a lot of drama too.  When I first moved in, I opened the window to adjust the air conditioner left by a former tenant, and watched in horror as it fell down to the floor below. Fortunately, no one was underneath. In addition, I once had a house painter named Jenny paint the place.  

    Jenny is very tall and gangly, nice personality, but bizarre.  She told me once that she sometimes stamps on the little people.  I knew she didn’t mean the proletariat.  She actually believed that she saw elves.  I suppose that it's not so far fetched, because some Scandinavian countries still believe in supernatural creatures.

I once asked my mother about her strange sightings, and my mother responded, “Well Jenny is very cheap for a reason, but she is a good painter.”

“And she does it very fast, because she has her little friends helping her.” I replied with a laugh.

Life Lesson 75: Every home has it’s share of stories.  Home is where the heart is, where we grow up, and you don’t need elves to have a magical experience.