MARC HASENFUSS: Hacked off at the knees
What do Marc Hasenfuss, a saw, a tight spot and Ascendis have in common?
Last week I sawed and (kind of) conquered. My son — every bit as impractical as his old man — conspired to jam a small table in the back seat of his car. He wrapped the seat belts around the legs, but did not count on the seat belt mechanism jamming at the first jolt. Try as I might — parking the car on a steep incline, removing the table top — I could not emancipate the table. The only solution (to the impractical mind) was to haul out the wood saw.
It’s not easy sawing inside a car, and it’s even more arduous when the saw handle unceremoniously cracks. Expletives flew. During my cacophonous carpentry, my cellphone was jiggling about in my pants pocket. Predictably, I managed to make a pocket call. It was a tennis opponent from a rival club, but the nicest fellow you could ever hope to meet across the net. He must have got an earful worthy of McEnroe at his finest. I’m fairly sure that above the desperate rasping I might have shouted (and this is the sanitised version): "I wi...
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