Not All Good Things Come in a Apple Box

Not All Good Things Come in a Apple Box

Back in 1980 something plus the next something, our humble abode had been broken into twice in two years. With the kids at school and the wife and I at work some master minded criminals figured out how to kick the back door in without setting off the alarm.
To be fair to the alarm company, we didn't have an alarm. And to be fair to the alarm we didn't have an alarm company. And to be fair to the master minds that kicked in the door we didn't have anything worth taking. But somehow all this made the community think we did, and my wife couldn't have been happier. And the fact they did it twice,...well she was over the moon.
"Do you think it was the same cat- burglar as the first robbery?" My wife questioned the chief inspector in heavy breathing tones as she took a long draw from an even longer cigarette holder.
I looked over at Barney of Mayberry, then back to the wife and then pointed out that cat-burglars worked at night and only stole diamonds and expensive paintings. I then made the case that if they had been here the once they certainly would have known not to return and that there was no cigarette in her holder. She, the victim of this perilous crime, my wife, took a long draw on the holder and shot me one of her looks that almost make me lose control of my bladder. She then put out the smouldering chopstick on the large wire reel we'd been using for a coffee table, holds the back of her hand to her forehead, claims a case of the vapours and retreats to the study (bathroom).
Officer Barney hands me his card and mentions if in a couple of days we can think of anything they could of stolen for insurance purposes he'd be happy to come by and make a report. I then show him to the door, which he carefully steps over, and then he's off, back to his secret headquarters at MI5.
My father-in-law Donn, hearing of the break-in, and in need of a laugh arrives as chief inspector, head of international break-ins and cat-burglaries clears the drive.
"Did they get the Van Gough or the jewels?" He asks loud enough for the neighbours to hear. Realizing he's been prompted by the wife a forehand, I assure him in a bellowing voice that the fortune is safe and that the gold we've hidden in the backyard is untouched as well (and here I'm hoping the neighbours will dig me a garden).
"You should get one of them security cameras like we have on our office building." Donn observes as he looks over our horizontal back door. "Even if it's just for the back door. Who knows, maybe that's what they were trying to steal."
"Keep it down will ya! I'm trying to get a vegetable patch put in. And besides that them cameras" I point out "are super expensive."
"Not if I make you one." He counters.
And so it was that we would have Donn make us a security camera. A camera with a mother board, nano switches, micro cards, perhaps circuits, some kind of gizmos with bells and a whistle, and??? Well I really don't know. There's a lot of technology in these things I have no idea of. And frankly I'm surprised Donn does.
It was until,....well it was next day Donn brought over the answer to all our security needs. He did note that he had most of the parts already and that the greatest problem is finding the right lens.
"Fisheye?" I asked. "No Slurpee" he answered as he set down the cardboard box.
I then told him I've never heard of a Slurpee lens. To which he countered that he'd never heard of a fishear lens. Funny I thought when a guy of his talent who knew so much about cameras had never heard of a fisheye lens.
"It's fisheye not fishear I said."
"What's fishear?" He asked absently as he worked about in his box.
"The lens! The lens! Is it a fisheye lens?" I ask, wishing this conversation would end.
"No I told you Slurpee. The lens is the top of a Slurpee cup. Slurpee. Haven't you ever had a Sluuurrrpeee?" Donn held his teeth together and stretched out his neck as he drew out the word Slurpee..
"You know I have." I answered "I just didn't think you could Macgyver a lens out of one."
"Well feast your eyes on this baby." Donn announced as he raised his technological wonder from the apple box. And when I say apple box I mean Granny Smith not Steve Jobs.
It was hard to know what to say and then it got hard to know where to look. So I stepped over the back door and called for the wife. She was always good in these type of situations with her dad. We had had a few.
She laughed! Not my first response. Especially when I had seen how much pride he had when he raised it from the apple box. (Again Granny Smith).
"What is it and what do you plan to do with that painted box with the dish soap dial and Slurpee lid glued to it? And isn't that cable vision (coaxial cord) wire stuck out the back?" She almost snorted.
"And don't forget this Sony name tag I glued to this side." Donn continued while moving his hands about his creation like one of the girls from The Price is Right.
"Again what is it?" And this time she did snort when she laughed.
Quickly I jumped in to explain that it was,.. It was,...a a a T- e -m -p -o -r- a- r -y security camera to fool the cat-burglars in case they came back. I then went on to say the head chief inspector captain general from the MI5 had told us to do it till we bought a real one.
"Okay." She said and walked over the door back into the house.
"Well I guess we have her blessing." Donn triumphed holding high his grey painted cardboard Sony box with the Slurpee lens and a dish soap top dial, operated through a fake cable system. "Help me with the ladder will ya and we'll point this baby at the door.

That was almost 30 years ago. And it's still there! And we have never had another break-in. Even after we got a real coffee table.
Donn was going to take it down just last week because it didn't look like a real camera anymore. To which I bit my tongue and smiled. "Leave it" I said "It will be a great story when the grandkids are old enough to notice it and ask 'What is it?'"

Bob Niles