Fire Hydrants and Ill-Considered Tasks

If you only get the foundation laid and then run out of money, you’re going to look pretty foolish. Everyone passing by will poke fun at you: ‘He started something he couldn’t finish. – Lk. 14:29

A couple years ago, I was involved in a big construction job that involved a lot of remodeling. Consequently, there was a lot of dirt. The construction equipment tracked inordinate amounts of mud on the formerly pristine streets of this upper class neighborhood and so it was decided that we would borrow hoses from the fire department, attach them to the fire hydrants, and wash the offending dirt down the gutters.

Now my superintendent volunteered me to clean the streets using the fire hose. I should have known better. He said he would let me hold the hose while he “carefully” turned the hydrant on. I should have known better. I walked out into the street dragging about 200 pounds of hose behind me while he walked toward the hydrant with a big wrench in his hand. “Malley,” says I, “usually when I see fire hoses being used its by two or three big, husky firemen, all hanging on for dear life.”

Malley starts to work on the hydrant. “Oh, that’s if you turn it on full blast. I’m just going to turn it on slowly until it gets strong enough to clean the dirt. Dang! Why won’t this blasted thing turn?” He said as he pulled with all his might on the stuck bolt. I should have known better.

When that bolt suddenly came loose, I felt like I had gotten hold of the tail of a dinosaur on amphetamines. The brass nozzle jumped up a nailed me on the forehead and while I sat there thinking about that, the hose suddenly straightened out, tripping me and causing me to hit my still dizzy head on the pavement. The only thing I could think of (other than the obscenities I would refrain from heaping upon that dimwit my company chose to call a superintendent) was to keep hold of the hose so that I wouldn’t get killed. I weigh 200 pounds, and that hose threw me around like I was an anorexic chicken. Meanwhile, Malley, ever-wise and considerate of his men, walked away casually so that no one would know he was involved in making this huge muddy (and a little bloody) mess. I should have known better!

How often do we take on things that we know we shouldn’t touch, knowing they’ll harm us? How often do we preach to our kids about the dangers of smoking and then pause so we can take a big drag on our cigarette to calm us down? We don’t seem to look far enough down the road to realize what consequences lay ahead. We should know better!