Commentary by Christy Solo
I was watching a show on TV the other day and one character was splitting wood with an axe while another sat maybe two feet away. As the axe came down and splinters flew every which way, I cringed and became my mom. It was bound to happen.
Mom was one of those people you might not want to watch TV or a movie with. She would get persnickety, out loud. Especially with outdoorsy shows or historical shows, “You wouldn’t use a dry fly to fish in that type of stream!” she’d narrate.
Kids being kids I developed an “I’ll never blurt out stuff like that in the middle of a show” mentality.
But that swinging axe and flying pine shrapnel broke me. “They aren’t wearing any eye protection!” I yelled to the totally uninterested dogs. Then I wondered aloud how the show got away with such a blatant safety violation while filming.
Safety, you see, was drilled into me as a kid. Despite my growing up in the pre-bike helmet and “run around wild until the streetlights came on” era. Oh and the “You can wander around in the woods alone as far as you can walk” era. I mean, I survived.
But for all that, we had to follow many strict safety rules. Moreover, there was always some perfect real-life Cautionary Tale friend or relative my parents would draw upon as an example when giving the pre “insert possibly dangerous activity here” safety lecture.
When I learned to split wood, I was taught the “steel log splitting wedge and sledge hammer” method. I was also taught to “always wear eye protection.”
Just telling me wasn’t enough, I also got the example. My dad’s friend Wendel had split logs once without wearing eye protection. A sliver of steel came off the wedge and hit him right in the eye. Wendel was now blind in one eye.
Suffice to say I always wear eye protection when splitting wood, using a power saw, heck even hammering in a nail.
I was terrified to light a barbeque for years because my brother’s friend had lit himself on fire lighting one with too much enthusiasm when he was about 11 (again pre-bike helmet days). He lived but bore the severe scars over his entire upper body. I did finally learn to grill after much instruction on “Grilling 101 and not lighting yourself ablaze” from my dad.
I’m also happy to watch fireworks other people have lit and never had that childhood urge to mess around with cherry bombs or M80s because – you guessed it! My brother had another friend who took off the first joint of every finger on his left hand with an M80 mishap (yes, they are illegal for a reason, but again, “pre bike helmet” era).
It seemed like everyone my dad or brother or uncles knew was a walking cautionary tale. Unlike many “the boogey man will get you if…” cautionary tales for children, I’d met every victim of “act first, think later” in real life.
I did get an A in woodshop in junior high despite having the quintessential “shop teacher missing a finger” teacher. But I got that A with exquisite care.
I’m also well versed in the ways of lightning (do not mess with it) and the very safest ways and places to take cover because two of my cousins were…yup…struck by lightning. Fortunately, they were in their vehicle at the time. Still they got off lucky because they were driving on a mountain road and were both temporarily blinded by the experience.
Then there was the time my Grandpa Joe broke his arm because he leaned his ladder on the tree branch he was sawing – not the tree trunk – then proceeded to saw off the branch the ladder was leaning on.
I’ve definitely done some reckless things, who hasn’t? But at least I was spared some safety faux pas inevitabilities by way of a long list of friends and relations who learned the hard way.
