Speaking of Mice (Comedy From the Dim and Distant Past)

Around 20 years ago, I worked at an independent TV station in the middle of nowhere, in North Georgia. I ran master control 3rd shift and had the place to myself until the morning show crew came in.

Late at night, I’d be blasting some Rock and Roll station from Vancouver off the satellite or watching weird late night broadcasts from God-knows-where while cueing videos, switching the commercial breaks, etc…. and I’d see this flash of fur scurrying through the shadows; a mouse. As time passed, the mouse decided I wasn’t a threat to him and gradually he became quite bold, he’d cross the control room out in the open and sometimes he’d sit, practically at my feet, and we’d just look at each other until I moved or blinked, then he’d scamper away. I took some comfort in his presence there and thought of him in friendly terms.

Then one day, the daytime staff discovered there was a mouse (or a “rat” as they called it), and they set traps for my little friend everywhere.

So, every night when I came in, as soon as the person I was relieving left, I’d busy myself setting off all of the traps. I would even “gain entry”* to all of the locked offices and disarm the traps there too, relocking the doors when I was done. They all thought they were up against the World’s Smartest Mouse!

Then one night after arriving at work, I discovered that someone had, during the day, helped themselves to the frozen dinner that I had left in the freezer, leaving me totally without food or any way of getting food, all night. After my initial anger subsided and I determined there was no other food I could poach, I came up with a plan of action.

Surely some of the various secretaries and office-types had some food hidden away in their desks, all I had to do was find it. While I made my mousetrap triggering rounds, I searched for food. After an exhaustive search, all I turned up was a handful of mini candy bars, and a package of rice cakes.

Of course I ate the candy bars first, then set in on the rice cakes. I ate all of them I could stand (maybe 3 or 4) and realized I needed to come up with a way to cover my tracks. Soo… I carefully grawed a hole in the plastic bag they were in and then gnawed the edge of one the remaining cakes, making sure to leave plenty of crumbs in and around the bag. Then, in my best Jethro Bodine voice I said:

“Oh, it’s OK uncle Jed, I gnawed on the bag; make it look like the rat done it!”**

I laughed hysterically about that all night, to the point I was sore the next day… Hell, here it is 20 years later and that still makes me laugh.
And, it goes a long way toward explaining how conflicted I am by my present mouse dilemma.

*The piece of plastic that 3/4′’ videotapes are shipped with (to keep the spools from turning) makes a dandy “key” once you trim the nubbins off. Like a credit card, except roughly 5″x7″.

**There’s an episode of ‘The Beverly Hillbillies’ wherein Jethro cuts down a tree in Mr. Drysdale’s yard and reassures Jed; “Oh, it’s OK uncle Jed, I gnawed on the stump; make it look like a beaver done it.”