Wife strikes gold (or copper anyway) in pursuit of new man
Quiet, slim and given to dressing with seasonally inspired flair, Kristin’s new obsession spends most of his time kicking around the forest, cozying up to fallen logs and striking exaggerated, angular poses as if he’s the subject of a magazine photo shoot. Though only a mere 10 inches in height, what he lacks in physical stature, he more than makes up for in mystery and intrigue. Women fall for him, men seek him and even mild-mannered hound dogs are apt to lose their minds once under his spell. His name is Wireman. There are moments I feel he is taking over my life.
A few years ago, a crafty, woodsy friend of ours created a little treasure hunt by twisting up some stickman-like figures from copper wire and hiding them in the woods for folks to find. The game was so instantly and enthusiastically embraced that he did it again a few months later, and with that, a mini-cultural phenomenon was born. Loyal seekers now drop everything and head to the trails of Wooster Memorial Park as soon as word gets out that another batch of characters is on the loose.
Carefully cataloged and dutifully accounted for, each of Jay’s creations ends up in the hands of either some lucky cuss who randomly stumbled upon the little fellow in the course of normal travel or in the grasp of a wild-eyed obsessive who has spent days coursing each foot of the park, suspiciously eyeballing every “unnatural-looking” high spot of leaf litter within a foot or two of the trail. Kristin will shamelessly admit her place among the latter. I haven’t seen her chase after anything with such ferocity since she tried to hop the gate to the floor seats at a Rolling Stones concert back in college.
It’s an honest enough hobby, and one that leads to good exercise and a joyful disposition once the prize has been obtained. On the flip side, however, it can become an all-consuming, anxiety-fueled source of ceaseless obsession if, by chance, one’s luck isn’t running so hot.
I had scheduled a day off at the end of October hoping to get some winterizing done around the lawn and garden. Then word dropped that a Frankenstein-themed wireman had been loosed upon the woods just in time for Halloween. My chore day was instantly forfeited to aid in Kristin’s pursuit. Her pitch had been, “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to spend some time strolling together through the autumn woods?” The truth behind her invitation was obvious, however. Two sets of eyes are better than one.
Frankie the hound dog joined us as well for this “joyous romp through fallen leaves,” but despite four full hours of hiking, our search yielded zero wireman sightings. I signed on once again a few days later for what ended up being another fruitless forced march — this time entirely in the cold and rain.
Unwilling to accept defeat, Kristin and the dog lit out on their own as I returned to work on Monday. Logging another 8 miles before nightfall drove them home, the only winners in the pursuit were the dozen or so ticks Frank would ferry to the parking lot at the end of each trip.
Genius, it has been said, is akin to insanity. I propose the same is true of tenacity. Why else would a woman march 25 miles over the course of three days to land a tiny man upon her mantel?
I’m relieved to announce Kristin struck gold, or rather copper, just a half-hour into her fourth outing — just 23 total hours into the hunt. The Frankenstein wireman now stands triumphantly among his collected peers in Kristin’s studio, and life can return to its typical “quietly abnormal” around our house.
Kristin and John Lorson would love to hear from you. Write Drawing Laughter, P.O. Box 170, Fredericksburg, OH 44627, or email John at jlorson@alonovus.com.