What you need to know about the gentleman: He was tall, slender, sedate, with salt and pepper hair and beard, and possessed of a professorial demeanor just slightly short of elbow patches on the smoking jacket. In addition, he was Canadian with all the understated humor that implies.
We had just moved into a new apartment and being exhausted from several trips, we collapsed on a mattress on the floor only to be awakened in the middle of the night by a magnificent thunderstorm and multiple leaks in the ceiling. Being the resourceful type, he rigged up a plastic tarp that directed the flow into a bucket and we snuggled back down for a well earned rest.
As the sun came up, my eyes opened to the sight of an ominous bulge in the water collection system. Nudging my companion and pointing out the impending disaster, I watched in amazement as he did a rather spectacular leap to the top of the chest of drawers to save the day, just as the faux aquaduct gave way drenching his naked body in a torrent of rainwater. There he stood on the dresser, holding aloft the tarp like some combative flag, completely nude, in full masculine morning glory, soaking wet, with liquid dripping from his hair and beard and none too pleased with this development.
I stuffed a sheet in my mouth to keep the screams of laughter under an ear destroying volume as at his most erectly dignified, he simply uttered,
“This is NOT humorous”.