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Beware the Ides of March

with: Jamie Spencer

  I had every intention of writing a puissant column this week. But then I experienced a few misfortunes that only seem to happen to a guy like me.
  My original plan was to tell you about my man Nick Tagliaferri and the surging Hughesville Spartans, but I didn't want to jinx my good friend and his team.
  Perhaps I could weigh in on the MLB game being played at Historic Bowman Field during the Little League World Series this summer. Excellent idea and I hope it comes true, but don't get your hopes up kids — no tickets available for us average Joes.
  I also hear that our County Commissioners will be changing the name of the Challenge Course soon. Man. They really have no clue. Check your voicemail Jack.
  Beware of the Ides of March.
  So this past week has been an absolute nightmare personally, and many of my adventures are simply too good not to share. You simply can't make this up.
  Being a homeowner in the 17728 sure is great. I enjoy country living and being so close to my favorite fishing holes. But after 13 years it's really starting to "stink."
  We've encountered a few issues with our septic system of late, and like a good husband, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Well not exactly. My lovely bride actually gave me an ultimatum Sunday. Believe it or not, I only have a few chums,but I am so blessed with the ones I have.
  Everyone needs a friend like Tim. He's the type of person who doesn't mind lending a helping hand especially when it comes to digging four-foot trench. It's also cool to know a guy like Chris. My man has lots of fancy toys for me to use. Then there's Bobby. The one who is quick with a solution and reminds me constantly that I am a total clown.
  My little saga begins a few days back when Tim convinced me that we could fix our major problem ourselves. I then reached out to Chris to see if I could borrow his Kubota. He said sure and the next thing you know I was driving down Old Lycoming Creek Road in a backhoe.
  We started digging and we finally found what we were looking fore. The distribution box was full and mom started to cry. I look to Tim and asked now what? He suggested a trip to Lowes to beat the snow. I didn't have a ride so I dialed Bobby to see if he'd let me borrow his box truck. The mission was successful and my wife was happy with the plywood that was now covering our enormous hole.
  I felt somewhat relieved until my friend's 5,000 lb. box truck came to a screeching halt right in the middle of Old Lycoming Creek Road. Long story short. A few came to my rescue. A trooper and a local officer. It was bedlam, but I simply ran out of gas.