By Al Schwartz * Bass Lake Poet Lariat
And they said it couldn’t be done. But done it was.
Bass Lake resident Clifton Inoculator woke up one recent morning. Then he drove to the local home center and plunked down a week’s pay on a spool of 14-2 wire and a handful of receptacles, switches, bund nebules and hammer shots, went home and proceeded to do what they said couldn’t be done.
“What?” Inoculator asked as he drove home the final connection. “I’ve seen things.”
Indeed. When the switch was finally flipped at the end of a long month of screwing wires into things and drilling studs with holes made of pure air, Inoculator flipped the final switch. And they said it couldn’t be done.
“It’s just a garage,” he said. “Why are you here?”
And now, when Clifton Inoculator parks his car, he has lights in his garage.