About Me

I feel the wanderlust and the call of the open highway. Which is good, because I drive cars for a living. But I'm a writer, and someday hope to once again make my living using my writing skills.

Sunday, December 31, 2017

'TIS BETTER TO GIVE CHRISTMAS

As I drove through Colorado on Christmas morning, I was full of joy.  This is the day Santa visits all the kids around the world, whether they were naughty or nice.  This was the day that Jesus was born in a manger.  This is still the one day that most people go out of their way to be kind to others, and friends and family find forgiveness for past mistakes and rejoice in love for each other.

The snow covered the ground, and it was in fact a White Christmas.  I would be spending it alone on the road, and that did leave a little bit of sadness in my heart.  But I had finally pestered my boss Riff enough and he had sent me a check for what he owed me, namely $3500.  It wasn't enough to make me rich, but it was the first time in a very long time that I could remember being ahead financially.

My cell phone rang, and the one thing I was sure of is it wouldn't be my boss on the line.  He was no doubt three sheets to the wind celebrating this magical holiday.  "Hello, this is Bill," I answered.

"Bill-dog, this is Jenny on the ranch."

"Hey girl, Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you, too.  Tom and I were just wondering if you might make it by here to share some turkey with us."

"I would love to, but I'm up in Colorado and headed west."

"So that's a no?"

"Unfortunately."

"Damn it.  We miss you.  And you've been here several times in December over the past few years."

"I know, and I wish I could.  But duty calls."

"Yep.  Just know that we love you and are praying for you."  We chatted for a minute, then hung up.  I had received several calls over the last hour from friends who were thinking about me.  Friends who had let me stay in their homes many times when I passed through their city.

I thought about how lucky I was to have all those friends.  Then I remembered the family I grew up with, and what Christmas was like when I was a kid.  It was all about receiving, not giving, and I could not wait each year to see what I was getting.  It was an exciting and exilhirating time for me, and it was only as an adult that I enjoyed giving special things to each person and watch their faces as they open them.

Sometimes I feel like I don't have the lifestyle that I wish I could, living in a nice house, driving a nice car, taking vacations to Hawaii.  But on this day, all I could think about was the less fortunate folks who don't have enough to buy presents for their kids or even afford a decent Christmas dinner.

I scrolled through my cell phone and decided to call Pastor Rex, my old friend and confidante.  "Merry Christmas," he said as a phone greeting.

"Merry Christmas to you, pal."

"Bill, so good to hear from you."

"I need some important advice."

"I can always give you advice, important or not."

"I just got some back pay that I've been waiting for two years.  I feel strongly compelled to give $2500 of it to a charity for Christmas."

"Go right ahead, I think that's an excellent idea."

"Well if I'm going to do it, I want to be sure that I choose the very best charity where the money will stretch and do the most good."

I could practically hear Rex smiling on the other end of the phone.  "You came to the right place."

And he gave me all the information I needed.  Then I was able to share my money with those who really need it the most.  And it felt really terrific.  You should try it.  Merry Christmas to all.

Wednesday, December 13, 2017

A GRUMPY RAY-RAY

My old buddy and attorney John Hazzard was telling me on the phone the other day that one of the paralegals at his office had been reading my blogs and saw them all as an allegory for how I am mistreated in life.  That it reflects that everyone I meet is a bully whose mission in life is to harass me.  I don't see it that way at all.

A Driving Fool is all about my travels around the United States, all the many places I see and the often unusual people I meet.  I don't feel victimized by any of them, mostly I just feel amused that so many odd people find their way to me.  Everyone passes these strange people I write about, but most folks choose to simply ignore them.  I engage, and therefore have experiences to write about.  But these blogs are also meant to reflect how I try to help other people wherever I go, and how sometimes they help me right back.

I was in St. Louis where a new Drivers of America office had opened.  I dropped a car off and the St. Louis office manager told me he had a car for me to take to Sacramento, CA.  But it would not be ready for two days, and I was asked if I would help out with some local work, which I was happy to do for some more money.  When I arrived early at the office on the cold December morn, there were two other drivers already there waiting.  One of them was Danny, a tall skinny retired man with white hair.  The other one was an older black man named Ray, who wore a jaunty beret on top of his bald head.  He was a very loud and animated man.

"Hi guys, I'm Bill Thomas" I said.

Ray started to do what looked like a little jig, and said,  "Well this here is Danny, and I'm Ray, but you can call me Ray-Ray."

"OK."

"What you mean OK?"

I was confused.  "I meant... OK.  Can I use the restroom before we head out?"

Ray shouted.  "First thing in the morning and you gotta take a piss?  Or is it a crap?  Tell me which one."

"I'll be right back," I said, disregarding Ray and headed for the public restroom across the parking lot.  I took care of business as quickly as possible, frustrated as always that my ulcerative colitis rules my actions especially in the morning time.  I tried hard to manage it best I could, and tried even harder not to share the news about my condition with anyone.

When I got back to them, Danny and Ray were in a minivan with the engine running.  I hopped in and Ray said,  "That sure took you long enough.  Yes sir, sure did.  We ain't got all day."  I just chose to keep my mouth shut, but Ray spoke to Danny non-stop about all the girls he had flirted with and got phone numbers from over the past week.  He was bragging and really stretching credulity.

We arrived at a rental outlet that puts older rental cars out to pasture.  We were to drive them over to the Car auction center.  I found my car and did the paperwork, then was ready to drive out of the lot.  But the only opening to exit was blocked by a car with a beautiful girl in her early 20's, and she was being delayed by Ray.  He was leaning on her car window trying to make time with her.  After five minutes, I tapped my horn, and Ray responded by giving me the finger.  That's when I got out of my car and walked up to them.  "Pardon me ma'am, but could you please pull your car up or over so I can get by?"

"Sure," she said.

Ray was very displeased.  "Oh no, uh-uh baby, you ain't going nowhere.  Ray-Ray still got a lot to say-say."  There were 20 other drivers there from various car companies, and Ray's volume level was getting their attention.

I sighed.  "Is there any reason you couldn't say it to her after she pulls over, she's kind of blocking the only exit."

He took in a deep breath, obviously put out with me.  "What's your problem?  What is wrong with you?  You never rush a lady."

"It's OK, I gotta go, Pops," said the pretty girl, and she rolled away.

"Pops?  Pops?  Girl I could have shown you what sweet love really tastes like!"  He turned to me, furious.  "We ain't in no hurry."

"Well, I am."

Ray got extremely loud and started pointing as he spoke, to the left, then to the right, then up, then down.  "Oh, he in a hurry!  He in a hurry!  He in a hurry!  This man is in a big hurry!"

I nodded.  "Thank you for understanding."

"What's the matter, you gotta go crap again?  Do you crap all day long?  You got a crapping problem?"

I felt my face growing warm and was sure that it was bright red.  All those other drivers were hearing Ray announce my restroom problems, so I hit the gas and drove away.

Once we had dropped our cars off at the Car auction, we headed back for more.  And all day long, Ray kept on giving me hell about going to the restroom.  I did not understand his animosity towards me or his dedication to riding my butt and giving me a hard time.  I don't consider most of the people I meet to be bullies, but he sure was.  I tried to just keep my head low and my mouth shut.

At the end of the day as we were driving back to the office, we went through a fancy neighborhood with some huge fancy houses.  Ray looked at them and said to Danny, "One thing for sure, ain't no poor people livin' up in there."  Then he turned to me.  "What is your major problem with women in general?"

"My problem?  There's no problem."

"All day long I was trying to make time with some sweet young things and get me some numbers, and all you want to do is work and go go go."

"I thought I was here to work."

"Don't be a smart ass, man.  I am 69 years old, and I am asking out girls no older than 22 all day.  What do you think about that?"

"I have nothing to say."

"Because you judge me?"

"Nope, because I have nothing to say."

"You're a first class jive turkey."

We got back to the office, and went inside so we could turn in our paperwork.  I went to the restroom, and then came out and was told by the manager that my car was now ready to go.

"Ray-Ray's gotta go tinkle.  That's right, me, Ray-Ray, I use the restroom too."  He went inside, and I spoke to the manager about the car I was going to deliver to California.  When Ray came out again, he did not look at all happy.  "You low down stinking bastard."

I turned to him.  "You talking to me?"

"Who else would I be talking to.  There is a brown smear in the toilet bowl, don't you even know how to clean up after yourself?"

"I only pee'd, that stain was already there."

"You dirty liar!"

Suddenly I felt like I had had enough, and then some.  "I don't lie, and I don't appreciate you calling me a liar."

"All I know is what I know, and that's all I know."

"What do you know?"

"Ray-Ray knows that you are one nasty ass boy, and you ain't got no home training."

The manager Jack spoke up and said, "Ray, I'm the guilty party.  Sorry, I should have taken care of it."

"Don't try to cover for this waste of space, he ain't no good and that's for sure."

I'm usually even tempered, but Ray had pushed me too far.  "Listen Ray, you have been riding me all day long.  I've tried to be nice, I've tried to stay out of your way, but you keep coming at me."

"All I know is what I know."

"But it wasn't him," said Jack.

"I'm just keepin' it real cuz that's how I feel."

"Seems like you hate me, any reason for you to hate me?" I asked him.

"Because you are you, and I hate people like you."

"What kind of people is that?"

"If you need me to tell you, then you already know."

That statement baffled me, but I chose to blow him off.  "Fly away, little bird, fly away and leave me alone."

"What you mean calling me a bird?" he said menacingly.

Now I was seriously dazed and confused.  "Fly away."

"What you meant to say is fly way, Ray-Ray, fly away like a jailbird.  Why you gotta be bringing up my criminal record?  Yes, I sold drugs for thirty years, and got caught and spent ten years in prison."

Jack's brow furrowed.  "You were in prison?"

"Shut up Jack, this don't concern you.  I'm talking to this little punk ass, thinks he owns the world and has all the answers man!"

I grabbed my keys and paperwork and headed for the door.  "Bye guys."

"Wait, no, oh no you don't!  You ain't leaving till I get a few things said."

And I walked out the door.  I still believe that most of the people I meet are eccentric or oddly unique, but often need my help.  This guy was proof that there are bullies out there who will try to push you around just because they don't like you.