tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54394371532214305102024-03-08T22:08:19.089-08:00A Driving Fool AdventuresThe wild and unusual adventures of Bill Thomas, as he drives cars around the USA and each day meets interesting and often bizarre people.A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.comBlogger244125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-58295482774200361722023-09-25T11:37:00.002-07:002023-09-25T11:37:47.790-07:00MILITARY MAYHEM<p>It was early morning as I headed for my next vehicle pick up just outside Salina, Kansas and I had hitched a ride with a kind farmer I met in the little cafe where I went for breakfast. He told me I'd have to sit in the bed of the truck with his five dogs, but I happen to love dogs a lot so it was my pleasure. My boss Riff had told me that I was getting a 4 wheeler Chevy truck and taking it to Boston. He said the gentleman I was getting it from, Mr. Pyrtle, sounded gentle and accommodating. That would be a nice change of pace.</p><p> At 8am, the truck dropped me off at the entrance to the Pyrtle compound. It looked a whole lot to me like a military compound. As I neared the fortified gate, two snarling Dobermans came running down to me barking and biting the air, seeming to wish it was me they were biting. I heard a man shout, and the dogs immediately went running back to the house and disappeared inside. The man who shouted walked to face me through the gate. "Mr. Pyrtle?" I asked.</p><p>"I prefer to be called Sarge." He unlocked four different locks and then opened the gate. "Follow me, and watch where you step. You never know when you're gonna come across a booby trap, soldier. When you are in a war, you must expect the unexpected. There could be land mines."</p><p>"Land mines?" I said with real concern.</p><p>"Oh there's none on my property, but I can't speak for outside the perimeter. Understood?" he bellowed.</p><p>"Yes sir!"</p><p>"Now I expect you to take very good care of this truck. I expect it to arrive there in mint condition. Not a dent, not a ding, not a scratch. Are we clear?"</p><p>"Yes sir!"</p><p>"I have inserted a military grade advanced GPS system in the truck and will be tracking you all the way to Texas. If you deviate even slightly from the prescribed path, I will call the police and report my truck stolen."</p><p>"OK, but I thought that it was going to Boston."</p><p>His face turned red. "What did you say?"</p><p>"Boston, up in Massa --"</p><p>"I know where Boston is, I served with many fine men who loved the Red Sox, God help them.. Just what are you up to, boy, what are you scheming?"</p><p>I shook my head. "I have no scheme, I'm just here to drive your truck."</p><p>"To Texas! Not to Boston! But you intended to take it to Boston in spite of my wishes."</p><p>"No."</p><p>"No what?"</p><p>"No sir, Sarge."</p><p>His eyes became slits of suspicion. "I think you'd better break out some ID, soldier." I fumbled to get my Alabama driver's license out and handed it to him. As he looked it over, he pulled a 9mm Glock that had been tucked in his belt from behind his back. "We are gonna get to the bottom of this real fast."</p><p>Quickly, I pulled my cell phone from my pocket. "If I could just call my boss real quick --" He knocked my cell phone out of my hands and it fell to the ground. "I am not your enemy, Sarge."</p><p>"That remains to be seen, Private." The Sarge closed his eyes and began humming. Then he began walking around in small circles while mumbling to himself. "This is how its gonna go. I will go into the house and call your boss and find out what kind of FUBAR is going on. And you, you will stay put or I will release my dogs and they will rip you apart. Do you believe me?"</p><p>"Yes sir, Sarge."</p><p>"It's important that you believe that they can do it. Stay right here." The Sarge marched purposefully up to the house. I stood my ground. Ten minutes later, a haggard looking woman came out of the house and walked cautiously towards me.</p><p>"Who are you?" she asked.</p><p>"Bill Thomas, I'm the driver."</p><p>"No, I mean who are you really. Sarge says you're the underworld element. But whoever you are, I ain't lost all my manners. Welcome, I'm Lulu Pyrtle and the Sarge is my husband. He don't mean nothing, you know."</p><p>"War can be tough on a man, I'm sure."</p><p>She stared at me incredulously. "You think the Sarge fought in a war? No, no, he wanted to but got refused on the medical part because of mental unbalance or some such. Sarge is the most mentally smart man I know, and he will be ready when the commies come knocking at our door."</p><p>"I see," I said.</p><p>"The compound is secure, and we are ready to send those commies rushing back to Russia. You say 'I See' but do you really? Not everyone understands the Sarge. Goodness me, where are my manners, can I get you something to drink?"</p><p>"No, but thank you very much."</p><p>"Are you sure? It's really no problem." Right then, the Sarge came marching back at a quicker clip than before, and now he was carrying a rifle. I felt a cold chill run up my spine.</p><p>"Your story checks out, Private. Hey Lulu, are you offering aid to a potential enemy? Get back in the house now and check on that thing."</p><p>She smiled. "Oh, you mean the --"</p><p>He quickly interrupted her with a harsh "Shhhh! Go, now!" She hung her head, defeated, and walked as fast as she could back to the house. The Sarge eyed me closely. "Did she tell you anything?"</p><p>"About what?" I asked.</p><p>"Anything about anything?"</p><p>"No Sarge, she just offered me a drink."</p><p>He looked down and shook his head sadly. "God bless her, that woman is too kind for her own good. Someday when the enemies storm our gates, they will take advantage of her weaknesses. Now before I send you off with my truck, I'm going over it with a fine tooth comb. Let's get a move on, Private!"</p><p>For the next hour, we examined the truck more thoroughly than I ever have with any vehicle. While we looked, the Sarge asked my views on some very politically charged questions. This felt like the minefield he had warned me about, and I kept my answers brief and very dumb so as not to set him off. As I climbed into the truck to leave, the Sarge snapped to attention and saluted me. "You are a brave soldier, I would love to ride your ass in basic training and see what kind of officer you'd make in the U.S. military. Godspeed to you, Private. Are we clear?"</p><p>"Yes sir, very clear." I left and drove much faster than usual, wanting to put as much distance as I could between us. My cell phone rang, and I heard my boss Riff giggling on the line. </p><p>"How was the pickup from Mr. Pyrtle?"</p><p>"Terrible Riff, the man was wacko. And it didn't help when I told him I was driving his truck to Boston. Did you know it was going to Texas?"</p><p>Riff's laughter grew heartier. "Of course I knew, I was having a little fun with you. He sounded like an oddball on the phone, so I gave you misinformation to see how he'd react."</p><p>"I'll tell you how, he reacted by pulling a gun on me!"</p><p>Riff responded with a chortle. "Oh I would have loved to have seen that. Priceless."</p><p>"I'm doing a job here, do not play with me or put my life in danger!" I hung up my cell phone and replayed what had just happened at the compound. One thing is for sure, I pity the commies who decide to make an assault on Sarge's home base. <br /></p><p>.<br /></p><p><br /></p><p> <br /></p>A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-14464239816195301412023-06-12T17:57:00.004-07:002023-06-16T17:42:18.072-07:00WICKED THE MUSICAL CONFUSION<p> Driving and delivering cars all over this great country affords me possibilities to do some fun and adventuresome things. The problem is always being able to plan ahead, which is mission impossible on this job.</p><p>Ever since I got to see my first Broadway show THE PRODUCERS in 2004, I craved more musical theatre. And the show that sparked my deepest interest was called WICKED, all about what happened before Dorothy came to OZ. Unfortunately, it has been well over a decade since I have delivered a car to Manhattan, and I knew the show wouldn't go on forever. As of 2022, it is still going strong on Broadway, but my chances of getting to New York didn't seem to be improving.</p><p>Two months ago, I got a car to take from Phoenix to Tampa, Fl. The catch was that I'd have to stay in Tampa over the weekend, so I could pick up another car Monday and drive it to Chicago. I looked on the internet for events in Tampa, and to my surprise WICKED was playing there on tour. Four more days and it would be gone.</p><p>I called the box office as I drove east towards Florida, trying to get a hold of someone but just leaving voicemail messages pleading for a seat if one was available. I said I was determined to see this play before I die. The very next day, I got a call from a lovely girl named Erin in the venue's administration offices. She said she was moved by my call, as were several other people in her office, and if I could afford $100, she would get me a seat for the Sunday matinee. I jumped at the chance, I was over the moon!</p><p>Once I had delivered the car in Tampa on Saturday morning, I got a motel room and basically was killing time until the big show on Sunday.. I had picked a motel not too far from the theatre so that I could make it an affordable Uber ride.</p><p>I got to the theatre, and was amazed by what I saw in the lobby. Lots of people dressed in Emerald green. Munchkins. Denizens of the city of OZ. I have always been a fan of THE WIZARD OF OZ, and anything related to it. The idea of this play seemed to focus on the true friendship of Glinda the Good Witch and Elphaba the Wicked Witch. </p><p>My ticket had been waiting at the Will Call table, and I found my seat was dead center in the back row of orchestra. Which means I had a great view of the entire stage. Ten minutes before the show was to begin, a man scooted quickly down my row and said, "Are you Bill?"</p><p>I smiled. "Yes, I'm Bill."</p><p>"Hi, I'm Rich, the stage manager of our touring production of WICKED, and we all just wanted to welcome you today specially."</p><p>"Wow, really? That's...something."</p><p>He handed me an envelope. "A little gift to remember the day by."</p><p>I opened the envelope and found a Playbill program. Every single page was covered with signatures. "What is this?"</p><p>"The entire cast and crew signed that for you, Bill. And they asked me to tell you that today's performance is dedicated to you. We all think you're very special." He nodded and excused himself. I looked down at the program, and read notes like, "You are an inspiration," and "we believe in you." </p><p>Moments later, another man came scooting down the aisle. "Bill? Are you Bill?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>He reached his hand out to shake mine. "I'm Bradley, the house manager, and I just wanted to personally welcome you here today. It's a real honor to have you here."</p><p>"Bradley, I appreciate all the attention, but I have to ask... why me?"</p><p>Bradley winked at me. "Don't be so modest." He turned and moved away. Two older women in front of me had been chattering, and they suddenly turned to me.</p><p>"Who are you?" one of them asked.</p><p>"No one."</p><p>"No sir, you are someone, else they wouldn't be catering to you."</p><p>"Well I'm a writer. I wrote a book."</p><p>"I'd like to read that book!"</p><p>It just so happens I always carry a few copies of my books with me wherever I go. Because you never know. I handed her a copy and said, "My gift to you ladies."</p><p>They both stared at me like I was dense. "Aren't you forgetting something?"</p><p>"Like what?"</p><p>"Your autograph. To my good friend Jessica and Kristine, thanks for all you did."</p><p>I signed my book, and the show began. And what a show it was. It exceeded my wildest expectations, and I kept feeling a profound sense of gratitude for being there.</p><p>After the show was over, I was headed for an exit so I could catch my Uber to the motel. I heard a voice behind me "Mr. Williams. Mr. Williams." It kept getting louder and closer, but it couldn't be meant for me. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Bradley. "Mr. Williams."</p><p>"Bill."</p><p>"Sorry, Bill. I just wanted to see if you enjoyed the show?"</p><p>"Well that would be severe understatement. It was one of the most entertaining experiences of my life"</p><p>"We are just so glad you could make it. And hey, PRETTY WOMAN THE MUSICAL is coming here in the Fall, and we'd love to see if you're still around." We shook hands again and I left.</p><p>Monday morning I got the car and was just headed north when my cell phone rang. I answered, and it was Erin from the theatre. "Hello, Bill?"</p><p>"Erin, I owe you so much. I not only got to see this great show, but I was treated like royalty. It was incredible, and I don't know what I did to deserve it, but I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth."</p><p>"Bill...I don't know how to tell you this. There was a miscommunication."</p><p>"How so?"</p><p>"There was a man with a brain tumor whose last wish was to see WICKED. His name was Bill Williams, and he was to be seated next to you. When he didn't show up, everyone assumed you were him."</p><p>"So the signed program was for him. The show that day was dedicated to him."</p><p>"I'm afraid so."</p><p>"I just feel guilty as crap, those things weren't meant for me. I will return the program and..."</p><p>"No, no," Erin urged. "Please don't do that. We discussed it here in the office and decided that there is no reason to inform the cast and crew. It would be an unnecessary popping of a feel-good balloon."</p><p>"Got it. Well, hopefully Bill Williams will get another chance to see the show."</p><p>"No sir, he... I'm going to have to let you go now. Thank you Bill.</p><p>Sad to hear that the Bill I was mistaken for will never get to see the show. But perhaps I enjoyed it enough for the two of us and can share that with him cosmically. <br /></p>A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-24025607939538130232023-03-31T14:41:00.001-07:002023-03-31T14:41:23.390-07:00UBER THE CUCKOO'S NEST<p> My name is Bill Thomas, and I drive cars for a living. All over the USA, for busy executives, snowbirds, anyone who wants me to drive their car and deliver it anywhere in the lower 48 in an expedited fashion. It was a cold morning in Cleveland, Ohio, and the address I had delivered to this morning was not exactly the shining gem of the city. I was actually a little bit scared, and definitely wary.</p><p>Once I drop off a car, I have to get to the next pick up. Sometimes it will be in the same city or nearby, but more often than not it's another city or another state. I've gotten very good at finding the best and cheapest modes of transport, whether its plane, train, or rental automobile. The trick used to be finding a city bus route to get from the drop off point to the transportation center. Thank goodness Uber was created, it makes my getting around much easier.</p><p>I was waiting in the chilly morning hours for my Uber to come and take me to the Cleveland Amtrak station. There I would catch a train to Chicago, where my next pick up was waiting. The Uber was taking longer than usual, and almost double the ETA that appeared on the Uber App.</p><p>Five minutes later, a rusty old pickup truck pulled up and I saw a very elderly man inside. He rolled down the passenger window and said "I'm your ride, get in."</p><p>I always introduce myself so I know I have the right driver and the right car. "I'm Bill."</p><p>"I don't care," he said as I climbed in. He stared at me with a steely gaze and said, "My name is Jocko. I'm 94 years old and I have a bad case of hemorrhoids. So now you know." He stepped on the gas so hard that my head snapped back and bounced off the head rest.</p><p>"I didn't know Uber hired drivers over 90."</p><p>"They don't. My old pal Bobby made me a fake ID that says I am 70 years old. Would you believe me if I told you I was 70?"</p><p>I looked at his wrinkled, weathered skin and his toothless grin, then replied, "I'm not good at guessing ages."</p><p>"Well, I fooled Uber, and I fooled you too."</p><p>"I'm headed to the Amtrak station."</p><p>"In what city?"</p><p>"Cleveland."</p><p>"Cleveland? There ain't no Amtrak station in Cleveland."</p><p>I was perplexed. I had a train ticket in my pocket from Cleveland to Chicago. "Can you just take me to the address I entered?"</p><p>"OK, hot shot, I'll take you to that address, but you won't find Amtrak there. And by the way, what are we going to do about all these damn aliens?"</p><p>Fearing this would open up a political conversation, I cautiously asked, "You mean illegal immigrants?"</p><p>"What? No! I mean the aliens from outer space who walk among us. And fly over us in big white balloons."</p><p>"I think that was China."</p><p>"No, boy, China is another country but its here on earth. I'm talking about Unusual Flying Objects from another planet. You need to be better informed. By the way, I saw a good movie the other day. Something about crashing into a cuckoo's nest."</p><p>"One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest?"</p><p>"That don't sound right. This was a movie about a big giant Indian man, who could not speak or hear anything. He just pushed a broom around the mental hospital. Then one day, he decided to just leave, so he tore a huge water fountain out of the floor, and threw it at the window. Then he jumped out and ran away. The end."</p><p>"I've seen that movie. A lot of other stuff happens besides that."</p><p>"Oh, I know, I know. I loved that little shrimp guy who wants always betting quarters and silver dollars."</p><p>"He bet a dime, then he bet a nickel."</p><p>"Yep, he was a funny little guy, that Screwdriver."</p><p>"His name, was Martini."</p><p>"No, that don't sound right. Where did they find that little dwarf who played Screwdriver, he was hilarious."</p><p>"He's not a dwarf, he's just short. His name is Danny DeVito."</p><p>"And after that movie, he was never heard from again."</p><p>I decided it would be foolhardy to debate this. "How far are we from my destination."</p><p>"Dammit, I told you there's no Amtrak station in Cleveland. And I -- wait, did you see that?"</p><p>"See what?" I asked.</p><p>"It was here, then it was gone."</p><p>"What was?"</p><p>"Mind your own business, that's what. Do you ever think about suicide?"</p><p>What a crazy segue. "No, not really."</p><p>"I do. A lot. I mean I don't want to live to be 100, am I right?"</p><p>"Well, as long as you're happy."</p><p>"But that's just it. I'm never happy, not ever. Sometimes when I'm driving on one of those big high overpasses, I'm tempted to crash through the guard rail and sail to my death."</p><p> Now I was officially alarmed. "Listen Jocko --"</p><p>He got very agitated. "Who said you could call me that? Don't you ever use my name without permission. You got that?"</p><p>"Yes sir."</p><p>"I think you flew out of that cuckoo's nest."</p><p>"I just want a quiet, peaceful ride sir."</p><p>Jocko slammed on the brakes, and we were nearly rear ended. "Get out."</p><p>"Beg your pardon?"</p><p>He was growling. "I said get out, and I mean now! You are making me uncomfortable, and I don't want you in my truck anymore. And neither does my dead wife Naomi. She would not have liked you one bit. Now get out, before I call the police and report you."</p><p>I climbed out of the car and he took off, his tires kicking up gravel that sprayed me. I've taken a lot of Uber rides with a lot of different drivers, but none like this one. I ordered another Uber, and it came quickly and took me to my address. And to my delight, there was an Amtrak station there. I am sure if Jocko had finished my ride he would have been furious to find there was a station here when he was so certain there was not. Riding with Jocko, I felt I had been Uber the cuckoo's nest. <br /></p><p> <br /></p>A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-32252040534860741672022-10-16T11:39:00.006-07:002022-10-23T09:58:37.828-07:00STAR WARS SALLY<p>"You don't want an answer to that question," growled my boss Riff. </p><p>"Yes I really do." </p><p>"The customer complaints about you are piling up. You are such an idiot I don't know
how you even comb your hair in the morning." </p><p>"My hair?" </p><p>"Yes your hair, that covers your empty head."</p><p>"I'm pulling off in Tallahassee now, speak to you later." </p><p>"I'm not done yet!" he shouted as I was hanging up my phone.</p><p>I had driven this car from Dallas, and it was due just outside of Tallahassee the next morning. By chance, my old buddy John Hazzard was on business in town, and asked me to pick him up downtown. I was due to arrive there at 2pm, and still had ten minutes to spare.
I pulled up to the curb near the old Florida movie theater downtown. Which is no longer open for business. There was John, easy to spot in his usual dapper dress code and carrying a briefcase.
"Bill old boy, how in the hell are you? You're looking well." </p><p>"Feeling great. What brings you to Tallahassee?" </p><p>"Business. And a transactional possibilty for you." </p><p>"What kind of proposition?" I asked warily. </p><p>"I had lunch with my wealthiest client Miss Saloman today, and she was asking about you." </p><p>"Her? Again? What is this obssession she has with me?" </p><p>"She thinks you are adorable, and said she can't wait to get you into a Star Wars stormtrooper uniform." </p><p>I shook my head. "She wants what?" </p><p>"Miss Saloman is deep into cosplay, where a group of people dress like they live in the Star Wars universe. She wants you in the assless stormtrooper outfit." </p><p>"Assless?" </p><p> "Yes, like assless chaps, your bare bottom is exposed for all to see." </p><p>"But why?" </p><p>John laughed. "The better to paddle your bare bottom." </p><p>I was shocked. "Come on, you have to be kidding me." </p><p>"She said she really wants to Yoda you good." </p><p>"She wants to Yoda me?" </p><p>"You know Bill, you don't have to repeat everything I say." </p><p>I felt light headed. "I just want to be sure I'm understanding you correctly." </p><p>"The proposition is for you to move in to a little cottage she has in the backyard. And she will take care of all your needs, and in turn you will do whatever she asks anytime." </p><p>"You have got to be joshing me." </p><p>"Nope, she is dead serious. In fact, she is already working to persuade you to move in." </p><p>My eyes turned into suspicious slits. "Persuade me how?" </p><p>"She said she has been using a Jedi mind trick on you every day in an attempt to make you move in, whether you want to or not." </p><p>"Tell her I'm not interested."</p><p>John rubbed his hands together with eager anticipation. "She's not just going away. She is very determined. She says she has more sex toys than Luke Skywalker. And more devious plans for you than that evil Emperor ever dreamed of." </p><p>"Okay, that's enough." </p><p>"She said she wants to Chewbacca you real good. She want to give you a Force push." </p><p>"Stop! Please!" </p><p>"Why the hesitation, Bill? You've always been the biggest Star Wars fan I've ever known. So you have a base foundation for a relationship." </p><p>"Relationship? Oh no, no, no." </p><p>"You'd be a kept man." </p><p>"I don't want to be kept, not by anyone. But if you think we have some kind of Star Wars connection, you are sorely mistaken. In fact it sounds
like she is talking about a completely different universe that the Star Wars galaxy.. She is bastardizing everything I love about those movies." </p><p>"I thought you were open minded." </p><p>"This isn't Star Wars, its sex games in outer space. I'm not interested, nor will I ever be interested in this unsavory proposition. You can tell that to Sally for me if she brings it up again." </p><p>"Sally?" </p><p>"It's what I call Miss Saloman. Silly Sally." </p><p>John chuckled. "Silly Sally?" </p><p>"Yes, but I am officially changing it to Star Wars Sally." </p><p>John shook his head aggressively. "Oh no, she will not like that nickname." </p><p>I started squirming restlessly in my seat. "That's the whole point, I don't care that she won't like it. I don't care, I just don't care." </p><p>John pointed ahead of us and said, "Pull into the next shopping center, there's a bar there and I think we need a drink." </p><p>I pulled in and parked.
"John, I appreciate you bringing the opportunity to my attention. But I am definitely not interested. You seriously think I should even give this consideration?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>"To live in her backyard and acting as her Cabana boy." </p><p>"Yes sir." </p><p>"And be at her beckon call?" </p><p>"Why not?" </p><p>"And cry on the inside while she tries to turn my beloved Star Wars into some type of sordid porno game thing?" </p><p>"Whatever gets you through the night." John opened his door and began to climb out. </p><p>"So this is no joke and there's an actual offer on the table." </p><p>"The offer is dead serious, no joke." </p><p>"And your best advice as my friend is that I give in to her wishes and become her play toy? You've got to be pulling my leg." </p><p>John peered over the roof of my car at me. "Right out of the socket."
</p>A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-7998527712174572192022-08-25T11:19:00.006-07:002022-08-25T15:03:09.575-07:00BROADWAY REOPENS<p>After the pandemic shut down so many places we all love to go, it was heartening to see that Broadway is back open for business. And it took me back to my adventure seeing my first Broadway show.</p><p>Mel Brooks' THE PRODUCERS is one of my all time favorite movies. When I heard they were making it into a musical, my heart sank, for I felt that they would spoil the magic of the original movie. Then in 2003, my friend Justin bought me the CD of the Broadway soundtrack, and I found myself driving cars around the country singing along gleefully. By this time Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick had left the show, but I doubted I'd ever get the chance to see it live.</p><p>Then I drove an ambulance to New York City one early April day in 2004, and was supposed to pick up a limosine to drive back to Atlanta. But when I arrived in NYC, I called and was told the limo wouldn't be ready to go until 11pm that night. I had just read that Lane and Broderick had returned for a limited 3 month run in the show, and that run would be ending in a few days. So I decided to try to go see it, and made my way up to the St. James theatre on 44th St.</p><p>I arrived to find a long line down the street and around the corner. It was a Saturday, and I assumed they were waiting to get in to be seated for the matinee show. As I walked down the line to find out where it ended, a dirty, smelly little man jumped into my path. "Tickets here. You want to see the show?"</p><p>"Are you selling them?" I asked.</p><p>"If you got cash I am."</p><p>"Are they good seats?"</p><p>"Are they good seats, he asks. Back row balcony, only the best. $500."</p><p>"That's a little steep for me. Maybe I'll get on the cancellation list, for after this line of people goes in."</p><p>The little man laughed at me. "Buddy, this line is for people waiting for any possible cancellations for this show. Are you ignorant or pathetic or both? You must be from the South." He stormed off as if he was disgusted with me. I looked at my watch, and it was one hour until showtime. Damn!</p><p>As I walked back towards the entrance of the theatre, I heard a voice call out loudly "Bill!" I knew that they couldn't be calling me, because I don't know a soul in Manhattan. "Bill! Bill Thomas, is that you?"</p><p>I turned around and was stunned. "Kim? Kim Mayer?"</p><p>"Hi Bill." She gave me a big bear hug. I hadn't seen her since college, where we were very close friends. I had still been sending her a Christmas card to her parents' house each year. </p><p>"I appreciated all the Christmas cards, you never forget me. And you write the sweetest things. You were always a good friend. So what are you doing in my neighborhood?"</p><p>"Trying to see a Broadway show."</p><p>"Not this one, I hope."</p><p>"Why, isn't it any good? Have you seen it?"</p><p>"Oh it's great, that's the problem. Everyone wants to see it. But yes I've seen it many times. I'm the assistant manager here at the St. James."</p><p>"Since when?"</p><p>"Since five years ago. But what are you doing now? My guess was always that you'd be a famous writer by now."</p><p>"I drive cars around the USA for busy executives who don't have time to. But I do still write. The last screenplay I wrote was inspired by this musical."</p><p>A voice called out her name. "I have to run inside, can you wait here a few?"</p><p>"I have nowhere to be." She ran into the lobby of the theatre, and I was once again enchanted by this lovely African American woman that I had a crush on all through college. She only saw me as a brother, and I had to watch as she had many misbegotten trysts with other guys who only hurt her. I was the one she came to when she needed a shoulder to cry on.</p><p>Ten minutes later, she was back. "Hate to say it, but you picked a bad time to come. Nathan and Matthew are back for a limited engagement, and this is their last week."</p><p>"So I heard."</p><p>"Everyone wants to see them, and I can't blame them. These two guys have a magical chemistry."</p><p>"Well, I figured if I was going to see my first Broadway show, it should be this."</p><p>"Wait a sec, are you telling me you've never seen a show on Broadway before? Ever?"</p><p>"Never. To tell you the truth, I was reluctant about this musical because I'm so in love with the original movie version. But a friend gave me the Broadway CD, and I've been listening to it over and over for months while I drive."</p><p>"Catchy songs, huh? Listen, I'm about to get real busy until the matinee starts. Can you hang out until then, we can talk more freely."</p><p>"Will you keep me in mind if a ticket comes available?"</p><p>"Baby, I don't want to burst your bubble, but this show is sold out, and I'm about to have to tell that line of over 100 folks that they are out of luck."</p><p>"OK, I'll just wait here for you." I walked up and down the block, looking at the Majestic theatre where THE MUSIC MAN originally appeared in 1957. And Sardis, a famous restaurant that celebrities frequent. </p><p>Just under an hour later, the line had disappeared and Kim walked back out to see me. "So what do you think of Broadway so far?"</p><p>"Exciting. Vibrant. And since I'm here anyway, I should get tickets for another show. Any good suggestions?"</p><p>Kim crooked her finger and wiggled it for me to follow her. "Come with me." She led me into the lobby where I saw an elderly lady sitting in the box office. "Ruth, this is one of my oldest friends, Bill Thomas. Do we have anything for him at tonight's show?"</p><p>"One seat, front row mezzanine. You want it?"</p><p>"Do I -- of course I want it! How much?"</p><p>"Nope, you are my guest tonight," Kim said with finality.<br /></p><p>Ruth handed me the ticket and said, "These go for 100 bucks and are very hard to come by."</p><p>"I am extremely grateful to you, Ruth. And to you, dear sweet Kim."</p><p>"Cut the corny crap and thank me by bringing me back a sandwich and a brownie. Now go see the city, but be back by 7:30, the show starts at 8pm sharp."</p><p>"I will, I'll be here." I spent the day seeing New York for the first time, visiting landmarks and museums and finding my way around. I had been in the city once before, but it was to visit a friend at the World Trade Center the day before 9-11. There was no time on that trip for any leisure, it was all business. And then my friend perished in the towers the very next day.</p><p>I arrived back to the St. James at 7:20, and found Kim easily. I gave her a bag with a sandwich made on a croissant, two brownies, a sweet bun, and some doughnut holes. She squealed with delight, because apparently the place I chose to purchase the food from was one of her favorite spots. "Are you ready for a real experience?"</p><p>"I feel like the King of old Broadway," I answered, quoting a line from one the show's songs. Kim passed me off to Judy, the head Usher, who took me upstairs to my seat. Judy kept on glancing at me oddly, as if she recognized me. </p><p>"You could be up on the stage tonight. You look a lot like Max Bialystock." I was flattered beyond belief.</p><p>"I know all the songs by heart," I proudly told her. "I will have trouble resisting singing along during the show."</p><p>Judy's face grew suddenly solemn. "Don't do that. Please don't do that." I could see she took me seriously.</p><p>I gave her my best humble, obedient look and said, "I won't. I promise."</p><p>When the overture started, I had butterflies in my stomach. This show I had dreamed about as I listened to the soundtrack was coming to life for me, and was so much better than I had possibly imagined. Lane and Broderick were hilarious, and played off each other brilliantly. Gary Beach was a scream as overtly gay director Roger De Bris, prancing and mincing like a real trooper. The main production number was SPRINGTIME FOR HITLER, which is done up big and splashy. I wanted to belt out the lyrics in unison with the cast so many times, but controlled myself.</p><p>After the show, I sought out Kim, and I grabbed her in a hug and lifted her off the ground, spinning her around. She laughed with glee, and asked how I liked the show.</p><p>"Words can't describe. It was one of the greatest show pieces of entertainment I have ever seen in my life. And I have you to thank for making this happen."</p><p>"Bill, the smile on your face makes it all worthwhile to me. I love bringing people joy."</p><p>"Well you sure brought a barrel full of it tonight for me. Thank you again and again."</p><p>I got her current address and promised to stay in touch. She said I am one of the only people she knows who actually follows through on that promise. I felt a flutter in my heart when I hugged her for the last time, remnants of the longtime crush I'd had on her.</p><p>But one thing that show really reminded me of. My goal, my destiny. I wanna be a Producer! <br /></p><p><br /></p><p> <br /></p><p><br /></p>A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-87349026454490294672021-12-31T14:08:00.003-08:002021-12-31T15:55:34.661-08:00SAVE MY BABY!<p> It was New Years Eve, and I was once again surprised by the amount of people that I deliver cars to who choose to take delivery on a holiday. Their plans are often in flux, and I find myself running all over the place. This year, it was Wichita, Kansas.</p><p>I had spoken to Miss Bellows on the phone, and she said she would be very busy with the birthday party but there would be a slice of cake for me. This was a red flag for me, because I like to drop off a car and go, not get caught up in the personal lives of my customers.</p><p>I was told to arrive at 4pm sharp, and no sooner had I parked and got out before I heard her shouting frantically and urgently. I came around the side of the house, I saw the most elaborate birthday decorations ever. At least, in my personal experience. There were six Papillon dogs all jumping around Miss Bellows, each wearing a party hat and a tutu. Miss Bellows, a rather rotund woman, was not handling the hectic pace well, although the sad looking man cooking on the grill seemed completely unaffected.</p><p>"Hi, I'm Bill Thomas," I said. "I have your new car here for you."</p><p>"Thank God you made it, the boys were afraid that you wouldn't make it for the party." she said. She seemed kinda peppy, kinda goofy.<br /></p><p>"Oh, I can't stay."</p><p>"Lucky," I heard the grill man murmur.</p><p>"Now I'm gonna have to insist, we have burgers on the grill, there's cake and ice cream. Right, Jimmy?"</p><p>Jimmy nodded glumly at the grill. "Whatever you say."</p><p>"Cheer up Jimmy, it's a party!" she exclaimed.</p><p>"And I am thrilled to be here," he said with no conviction.</p><p>"Mr. Bill, the birthday boy is Rover, then there's Fido, Spot, Buck, Freckles and Spike."</p><p>I smiled and nodded in their direction. "Nice to make your acquaintance."</p><p>"Don't be so sure," mumbled Jimmy.</p><p>I needed to get a move on, but didn't want to be impolite. "If you can just sign my paperwork, I'll get out of your hair."</p><p>She put her hands on her hips. "You are not in my hair. And if you were, I'd be glad to have you. Now the gift table is over there, if you have something to honor Rover."</p><p>"Run, while you still can," muttered Jimmy to me.</p><p>Miss Bellows scooped up Rover and came over to me. "Mr. Bill, would you hold the birthday boy for me so I can get some pictures?" She handed me Rover then put a party hat on my head, rubber band under my chin.<br /></p><p>"I mean, I guess so." I looked at the backyard, and it was lush and beautiful. Right in the middle of it was a large swimming pool, and I wondered if it was heated.</p><p>"I have to get my Polaroid camera, its inside." She ran into the house, and Jimmy started talking.</p><p>"OK, we don't have much time, so listen up fast. She is crazy as a bat, she thinks these dogs are kids. She will drag you into doggie drama then drag you down so far you lose yourself. No joke buddy, you should go."</p><p>"Are you two roommates?"</p><p>"Oh God no! I'm too stupid for that, I went and married the witch."</p><p>"Is she a witch?"</p><p>"Well, she ain't Samantha on Bewitched, I can tell ya that, bub."</p><p>Miss Bellows came out again just as Rover was trying to leap out of my arms. She began yelling at me, "You're gonna drop him, you're gonna drop him!" Rover fell from my arms to the ground, and at the same time Jimmy picked up a tennis ball and threw it towards the backyard. All six dogs went rushing after the ball, but only five stopped when they reached the edge of the pool where the ball landed with a splash. Followed quickly by a bigger splash, as one of the Papillon landed in the water. </p><p>A blood curdling scream unlike any I have ever heard came from behind me, and Miss Bellows nearly knocked me down rushing towards the pool. "My baby! Save my baby!" She was hysterical, running around in circles waving her arms over her head. While the pooch was happily doing the dog paddle. "Someone save my baby Freckles."</p><p>I walked down to the pool and scooped the little dog up, offering it to the woman. She squeezed it so tightly. "He's fine, he's just fine," Jimmy tried to tell her.</p><p>"How can you say that? I nearly lost my baby. Did you hear that, Freckles? You were almost an angel crossing over the rainbow bridge. You could have drown."</p><p>Jimmy shook his head. "He was fine, he knew how to swim just fine."</p><p>She looked insulted. "Don't be ridiculous, none of my dogs have ever had a swimming lesson in their life."</p><p>Jimmy looked up towards Heaven. "OK God, I'm ready. Because wherever I go, its going to be a whole lot better than this."</p><p>I got the paperwork taken care of and headed for my next pick up. Just out of curiosity, I called a good friend of mine who is a Veterinarian in Texas and asked if there is a special school where you send dogs to learn to swim. My friend said, "Yep, it's the same school you send cats to so they learn to hunt mice."</p><p>HAPPY NEW YEAR<br /></p>A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-71343755509399538492021-10-31T16:15:00.003-07:002021-10-31T16:15:50.816-07:00VIOLENT HALLOWEEN<p>It is Halloween night, and I am staying with a friend and watching all the trick or treaters come by. Some of the kids are real cute, but some of the teens seem too old. Free candy can be a powerful temptation. I know this Halloween will be better than last year, which ended poorly.</p><p>I was in St. Louis stopping off from delivering cars to stay at my buddy's Jimmy's house. He was planning a big party, and as soon as I got into town I stopped downtown and went to find a branch of my bank, using the GPS. I soon found the bank, but had to drive three blocks to find any available parking. I grabbed my bank card from my wallet and put my wallet in the glove box.<br /></p><p>I walked the distance to the ATM, took out $260, and headed back for the car. I noticed there were not too many people around. After I crossed a street, a large man stepped out of a dark alleyway. "Hey man."</p><p>I just kept walking.</p><p>"Hey man, I'm talking to you." He got in front of me. "Hey big man, you got a light?"</p><p>"Nope, sorry, I don't smoke." I tried to step around him.<br /></p><p>"Help a brother out."</p><p>"I would if I could."</p><p>"Gimme your money."</p><p>"What?" Then very suddenly, I was grabbed from behind in a bear hug from a large man who held on tight. </p><p>"Money!" shouted the man facing me. He slugged me several times across the face, and it felt like my skin was being torn.</p><p>"You heard him," came the voice of the man holding me. His breath smelled of cheap whiskey, accentuated by his tremendously strong body odor. I felt dizzy and nauseous.</p><p>"Money, now!" yelled the slugger, then he punched me twice more. I was angry, but all the fight was punched out of me. The bigger guy continued to hold me, while his friend when through my pants pockets. He found the cash and my bank card, and took them both. When I was released, I collapsed to the ground, just in time for the slugger to kick me in the stomach. Then they both ran off.</p><p>I peered around from my spot on the ground, and I thought sweat was getting into my eyes. I later learned that it was blood. My slugger assailant had big rings on his fingers, and they tore my face up. Some kind folks saw me and ran up, asking how I was and calling 911. I kept asking them which way the thieves had gone, but none of them knew. They wanted me to focus on breathing.</p><p>I didn't get to go to the party, I spent the night in the hospital. The Doctor said my face would heal without permanent scars, and that I had a bruised rib. I called my bank to cancel the card, and had to make a report to the police officers who came to visit my room. </p><p>The thing that concerns me most is that it left me feeling bitter and angry, and wanting some payback for the guys who so brutally attacked me. I work very hard for my money, and don't make that much. So I take it personally in the extreme when someone takes a chunk from me. And bloodies me in the process. Why is there so much meanness in the world? I refuse to give in, and will continue to practice love, kindness, and generosity to those in need. </p><p>Whatever happens this year, it's got to be better than last Halloween.<br /></p>A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-42429496872692799232021-08-02T08:28:00.001-07:002021-08-02T19:29:55.175-07:00DEAR MR. SPIELBERG<p>I was driving as fast as I could from Ohio to Louisville, Kentucky where my best friend Steve was in the hospital. Just three days earlier I had received a surprise call from him.</p><p>"Hey Bill," he said with the joy that was always in his voice. "Oh boy, it's good to hear your voice."</p><p>"Same here, buddy. How have you been?"</p><p> There was a pregnant pause. "I need to share some news with you. My Doctor just told me that I have an advanced case of PNH, it's a rare blood disease and Doc says there are some promising experimental treatments. But, this could be bad."</p><p> "Wait, I don't understand. How bad are we talking?"</p><p>"Dead bad."</p><p>"You could die?"</p><p>Steve chuckled. "I will die, but maybe sooner that I had hoped."</p><p>"So does this mean our trip across Canada is cancelled?"</p><p>"Lord no," he exclaimed. "I've been looking forward to that road trip with you since high school. And I still plan to make it with you, once I get this PNH sorted out."</p><p>I was way beyond stunned. "This is hard to process."</p><p>"Well Bill, you have been my best friend over 40 years now, and you are the one person I wanted to know about this."</p><p>"Wow, 40 years," I said in wonderment.</p><p>"Yep, and when I met you in high school, I was fresh out of the backwoods of Kentucky where I had grown up, and people teased me about being a country bumpkin. But not you. I remember you pulling me into your wild world of non-stop fun and crazy, and next thing I know I'm helping you make movies."</p><p>"I couldn't have made them without you."</p><p>"I really doubt that is true. You were a one man machine back then, there wasn't any obstacle you couldn't overcome. And I felt so damn lucky that you called me friend."</p><p>"I was the lucky one, always have been."</p><p>Steve began coughing hard, causing me concern. He got hold of himself and assured me he had something caught in his throat. "I have a really big favor to ask of you."</p><p>"What's that, buddy?"</p><p>"I've had to consider death for the past few days, although I'm not planning on going anytime soon. But when my time comes, I want you to promise me that you will get one of your screenplays made into a movie. I've always believed in you, and your writing and your stories are very good. You just need a break, and I can't tell you how much I admire you for hanging in there."</p><p>I was so moved. "I admire and respect you so much for the good person you are. You have helped so many people in your life, you have the kindest heart of anyone I know. You would quite literally take the shirt off your back to clothe a man with no shirt."</p><p>"Can I ask one more favor?"</p><p>"Anything, Steve."</p><p>"Can you please write a letter to Mr. Steven Spielberg and tell him how much his movies meant to you and me? How we saw every single one of them from JAWS forward. And the way that each movie marked a major milestone in our friendship. Like the day my mom was buried, right after the funeral you took me to see ET. I was so low, but I came out of the theatre with my heart soaring. Just write him and tell him, for me."</p><p>"Sure buddy, if that's what you want." I didn't have the heart to tell him that the likelihood of my getting a letter to Steven Spielberg was almost as good as winning the Powerball Lottery. But there is nothing I would not do for my friend. </p><p> Once I had dropped off the car I was delivering to Dayton, Ohio, I rented a car from a local Avis office and headed for Louisville. I had not told Steve I was coming, but decided I should call as I got near and let him know. After repeated calls and texts were not answered, I assumed that he had already started his treatments. When my phone GPS told me I was 20 minutes from the hospital, my phone rang and I could see it was Steve. I quickly picked up. "Hello, best friend in the world."</p><p>"Hi, Bill." It was the voice of Fred, Steve's only child, only he was an adult now with his own kids.</p><p>"Fred, how are you? I'm in Louisville now and on my way to the hospital."</p><p>"Bill..." Fred's voice cracked. "Dad just died."</p><p>"What? He what?"</p><p>"He was driving over to the hospital this morning, it's over 100 miles from his house out in the sticks. Just 3 miles from the hospital, a man was texting and driving and went through a red light. T-boned my Dad's car and it was crushed all around him. He was DOA."</p><p>"Wait, this can't be right."</p><p>Fred's voice wavered, and he said, "It's not right. But it's true. Bill, I'm sorry but I've got a lot to take care of here right now."</p><p>"No, of course, I completely understand." Fred hung up, and I pulled over and parked. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks, and I felt a deep sense of loss. Steve was quite simply the best guy I had ever known. But I pushed down my feelings and got a hold of myself. I pulled a blank legal pad and a pen out of my backpack. I made a promise to my best friend, and I had a letter to write.<br /></p>A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-40034306320730665322021-05-19T11:31:00.003-07:002021-05-20T14:19:30.173-07:00FAST FOOD DRIVE THRU<p> As I was driving a Ford Escape through central Tennessee, I was thinking of something my friend said to me on the phone. He said as he read all of my blogs, he noticed that my boss Riff never changed. He is always half drunk, yelling at me, hurling insults my way, and not treating me with any respect whatsoever. My buddy said Riff should show different sides to his personality, and that he has to grow as a character. I pointed out that I write about Riff exactly as he is, and some things never change. He pointed out that these are true life stories I write, and that I can fictionalize if I want to. Dramatic license. He insists that Riff needs a "character arc."</p><p>I was very hungry and got off the highway in a small town to search for fast food. I didn't see a McDonalds or Wendys anywhere, but I did find a place called Burger Qween, so I drove in and got into the line at the drive thru lane. When it was my turn at the speaker, I was greeted by an impossibly cheerful man saying "Welcome to the magical land of the Burger Qween, may I take your order?"</p><p>"Uh, yes," I stumbled. "I'd like a fish sandwich --"</p><p>The man on the speaker interrupted quickly, saying "You mean the Fish burger, that cute little cod fish who swims its way down the Alaskan pipeline by the Alaskan coastline, and swims its way into our hearts and our 450 degree fryers?"</p><p>"Yes, correct. And I'd like some fries --"</p><p>He interrupted again. "You mean golden brown french fries, Idaho potatoes sliced and diced before they jump into our 450 degree fryers, cooked just like the French do over in France?"</p><p>"Yes, large fries. And a Sprite --"</p><p>"You mean Sprite, that delicious lemon lime soda, tastes like a lymon, and tastes a lot like the Uncola, 7-Up? Is that what you want sir?"</p><p>I was frustrated. "Yes!"</p><p>"I'm sorry sir, we don't serve Sprite here."</p><p>That did it. I stepped on the gas just enough to get me up to the window, where I saw the manic cashier who had taken my order. </p><p>"Hi there, I'm Mark, and I'm here to fill your order."</p><p>"Can I get a Coke with that?"</p><p>"Instead of the Sprite?"</p><p> "You said you don't serve Sprite."</p><p>"You are so right, give the man a cigar!"</p><p>"How much?" I asked.</p><p>"How much longer? Why it should just be a few minutes. What's your rush sailor, slow your roll."</p><p> "I came to a fast food restaurant because I wanted my food fast."</p><p>Mark stuck out his bottom lip. "Well, someone sure is a grumpy Gus today. Your total is $7.89."</p><p>I handed him the money and he gave me change. "I forgot to tell you, I don't want any lettuce on my Fish sandwich."</p><p>"Sorry sir, this isn't Burger King. It's never have it your way, at Burger Qween its have it OUR way."</p><p> "Bad policy."</p><p>He clapped his hands together. "Bad policy, bad sandwiches, that's Burger Qween. If you want a really great chicken sandwich, don't buy ours. Try out Chik Fil A, you will be glad you did."</p><p> "But I ordered a Fish sandwich."</p><p>"OK, then try Long John Silvers, their fish is much superior to ours."</p><p>"Private!" came a booming voice, as the Manager walked up.</p><p>Mark jumped to attention and saluted the manager. "Yes sir, Commandante.. Reporting for duty, Mr. Doloheim."</p><p>"Private Mark, what have I told you about promoting the competition? We have the best burgers, chicken sandwiches and fish sandwiches in the world."</p><p>"That is inaccurate and way wrong."</p><p>"Not as long as you're working here."</p><p>A fellow worker named Jolene brought a few bags to Mark, no doubt my food and the next customer after me. Mark held up a finger to make a dramatic proclamation. "I shall no longer work for evil overlords who opress me and make me sad to wear this uniform". Mark pulled off his hat and grabbed the bags. He jumped out of the drive thru window nearly landing on my car. He ran down the street, waving the bags of food and screaming "Have it your way! Have it your way!"</p><p>The Manager stuck his head out the window. "I'm so sorry for the trouble and inconvenience. Just tell me what you want and it's on the house." So I gave him my order again, but this time ordered a dessert. I have been to many fast food joints, but never have I run into anyone remotely like Mark. I keep wondering where he will be working next... wherever it is I don't want to order my food there. <br /></p>A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-1873044114504911122021-02-20T09:16:00.000-08:002021-02-20T09:16:55.044-08:00THE LIMOUSINE<p>Before the Covid virus hit one year ago, life was very different. All of our lives have changed, some folks a whole lot more than others. But most everyone has been affected in some way or the other, including me. My workload has decreased to the point where I've been struggling just to stay afloat. And my boss Riff grows ever less charming each and every day.</p><p>Early January 2020, when we were mostly blissfully unaware of the viral dangers that lay ahead, I had been assigned to pick up a limousine in Long Island. Riff had called and said, "Listen you sorry SOB, you need to pick up this brand new limousine and get it to Charlotte, pronto."</p><p>"North Carolina?"</p><p>"No stupid, I'm talking about Charlotte, New Orleans. How dumb can one man be?"</p><p>"You tell me."</p><p>"What's that supposed to mean?"</p><p>"Forget it."</p><p>"Now this limousine is going to a Funeral home in Charlotte, but they haven't printed the company name on the doors yet. They will use this limo to take family's to and from the services for the loved one. Wait, what did you say?" <br /></p><p>"Never mind, Riff." I hung up.</p><p>I'd driven the limo south through some very heavy traffic. I stopped off in Richmond to stay overnight with my friend Justin and his family. He had a lovely wife named Mary, and two kids, Bud and Judy. Bud's real name was Timothy, but no one ever called him that. I cared a lot for both of these kids, and was sorry to see them both looking so sad when I arrived. But they did light up when I walked into the house that day.</p><p>"Uncle Bill," shouted Judy, running up to give me a hug.</p><p>"Hi, Uncle Bill," said Bud, smiling as he rose from his seat to greet me.</p><p>"Hey guys, how ya doing?"</p><p>"Don't ask," said Judy.</p><p>"Bummed out," said Bud.</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>Mary walked into the room. "Because they want to go to the dance at their school tonight." She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Welcome."</p><p>I was confused. "Why can't they go to the dance?"</p><p>Mary smirked. "Well they can, of course."</p><p>"No we can't," scoffed Bud.</p><p>"Nope," echoed Judy.</p><p>"I don't understand."</p><p>Mary smiled and shook her head. "Neither do I. They've both been looking forward to this event and planning for months."</p><p>"And Daddy said he'd get us a limousine to take our dates to the prom," Judy pouted.<br /></p><p>Mary was defensive. "Your father did not promise."</p><p>Bud protested. "I would definitely have to call it a commitment."</p><p>"No sir, no promises or commitments. Your father discussed it with you, and then with me. Ultimately, it cost too much and we decided against it."</p><p>Bud shook his head. "So we get to take our dates in the family minivan."</p><p>"I will be happy to drive you there and back," offered Mary.</p><p>Judy gave her a cold stare. "You're only making it worse, mom. I can't believe I'm 15 and I've never had a ride in a limo."</p><p>"Dad really screwed the pooch on this one."</p><p>Mary was irritated. "OK, that's enough. You don't talk about your Dad that way, more especially when he's not here to defend himself."</p><p>Justin walked in the front door. "OK I am here, ready to defend! Guys, lower your voices, I could hear you out in the garage. Bill Thomas, you adorably insane maniac!"</p><p>"Reporting for duty, sir."</p><p>"Is that your car out front?"</p><p>I grabbed Justin and pulled him behind him through the door that leads down to the basement. I wanted a private conversation with him about taking his kids to the dance. Justin wanted to be sure it wouldn't be an inconvenience for me. "I want to do this! Please let me?"</p><p>Justin shrugged. "Who am I to tell you no?"</p><p>"You're not." I ran up the basement stairs.</p><p>"Wait for me, you madman!"</p><p>"Hey kids," I yelled when I was back in the living room with them. "Have I got a surprise for you."</p><p>"Hang on," Justin cautioned. "Your Uncle Bill is going to do something really nice for you, and I expect you both to give this gift full acknowledgement and recognition."</p><p>"Bud, Judy, come with me, please." As we all stepped out the door, I asked if I could please drive them to the dance that night.</p><p>"What are you driving?" asked Judy. That's when we turned the corner outside the house and they saw the limousine parked out front.</p><p>"Oh my God!" yelled Bud.</p><p>"No way!" shouted Judy.</p><p>"Yes way!" I shouted back.</p><p>Mother Mary stepped up to me. "Are you sure you want to do this, Bill?"</p><p>"I really am, and I really do."</p><p>"Don't argue with the man!" warned Judy.</p><p>"Is it 100% OK with your company?"</p><p>I burst out with laughter. "I just don't care. It just doesn't matter. I still have not been paid for the past two jobs I did, and I'm treated with disdain all day every day. I feel they owe me, and this is a payoff."</p><p>"He's made up his mind, Mom, and there's no changing his mind," said Bud.<br /></p><p>I jerked my thumb towards Bud. "What he said."</p><p>The kids got ready. I had to borrow a clean dress shirt from Justin, and it was pretty tight on me. But Mary helped me to look dressed up, and even found a jaunty racing cap for me to wear to complete the ensemble. Four hours later, when the kids were all dressed and ready to go, I gave them the full treatment: opening and closing doors, being the faithful and subservient driver.</p><p>Judy's date was impressed. Bud's date was truly super impressed, and then some. I made them look good. I took a nap in the parking lot of the school where the dance took place. I wanted to be there waiting for them when they were ready to go. I took a quick peek in the rear view on the drive home and saw the kids making out. I was happy for them, but a tiny bit jealous because I haven't kissed anyone lately. Nope, longer than lately. Damn, I crave the soft lips of a familiar girl.</p><p>After dropping off their dates, I did a few fishtails and stunts with the limo that made Bud and Judy squeal with glee. When I got them home, both of them thanked me profusely. It was such a pleasure, and I knew I had made their evening special and memorable. That's what I like to do most in the world. Making people happy, and giving free rides in a limousine.<br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-91476348858836669432020-08-14T14:58:00.002-07:002020-12-24T10:07:00.342-08:00DUCK THE PUCK<p> Driving assignments had become more scarce as the Covid virus dragged on. People didn't want a complete stranger driving their car halfway across the USA. And even the best hygiene practices would not ensure that a contagious person wouldn't spread something. Plus, most of the other drivers I had met in my company were far from clean and tidy.</p><p>I was given a vehicle no one else wanted to drive, from the southern tip of Texas to a small town just north of Minneapolis. It was a doolie truck, four wheels on back, and had a flatbed with rails all round the sides. It must have been used to transport some type of animal, because it reeked of manure. I did everything I could to spruce up the smell, including 8 of the Hanging tree deodorizers. In the end, nothing helped more than keep the windows down, in spite of the blazing heat outdoors in August.</p><p>I had not spoken directly to the customer, just got texts from him twice a day. I had the delivery address on my paperwork, but at the last minute he asked me to go to another address. Entering the new information into my GPS, I could see that the location was actually 30 minutes closer than the previous address. When I arrived, it appeared to be some type of arena. The parking lot was empty, save for one parked car and the smelly truck I had just pulled to a stop.</p><p>After taking a walk around the truck to be sure there weren't any new dents or scuffs, I went to the main entrance and found the door unlocked. Entering slowly, I shouted to see if whoever was there was in earshot. I listened, and all I could hear was a loud, mechanical-sounding hum. I looked for a way into the arena area and soon found myself at seat level looking down at a hockey rink. The sound I had been hearing was a Zamboni which was circling around resurfacing the ice. The man riding the Zamboni was a big bear of a man, with a kegger-sized beer gut. His head was somewhat misshapened, round and jowly at the bottom then narrowing to almost a sharp top. When he saw me, he shouted out "Duck!"</p><p>Reflexively, I fell to my knees and ducked my head. One moment later, I was feeling awfully silly for that extreme reaction and got up to walk down and speak to the man without shouting. He was turning off the machine and laughing heartily. "Oh boy, you shoulda seen yourself. I yell duck, and you dropped like a sinner dropping to pray on his knees." He laughed some more.</p><p>I tried to keep a good humor. "Are you Mr. Matthews?"</p><p>"Nope, I am be Carl."</p><p>"Why did you shout duck?"</p><p>"You got something against ducks?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"Cuz ducks have a lot to do with hockey. For instance I yell duck cuz the most important rule in hockey is duck the puck."</p><p>"And score some points."</p><p>"Scoring is immaterial next to the puck. Always keep your eye on the puck. Or you might just get a puck in the eye."</p><p>"My name is Bill Thomas, and I--"</p><p>"Did you hear what I said? Get a puck in the eye?"</p><p>"Yes I heard, but I'm here --"</p><p>"Ducks are also integral to the game of hockey."</p><p>"I'm not here for hockey."</p><p>Carl scoffed and shook his head. "Everyone comes here for hockey. That's what they do here. It's the nation's passtime. The number one most attended sport in America."</p><p>"I have a truck --"</p><p> "I don't give a puck."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"You're out of luck."</p><p>"But I'm --"</p><p>"Now, back to a duck. In reference to hockey. I supposed you've never heard of the Killer Ducks?"</p><p>"I think you mean the Mighty Ducks."</p><p>"I think you mean the Anaheim Ducks." Carl nodded, satisfied. "Yep, no team ever like the Killer Ducks hockey team. Except maybe for the Charlestown Chiefs, who for one season dominated with violence and mayhem. Boy, those Hanson triplets were absolute chaos on ice."</p><p>"That was a movie called SLAP SHOT."</p><p>"There's no reason to bring in an attitude, pal. I know how to make a slap shot, and would be very happy to show you right now."</p><p>"Bill Thomas!" came another voice loudly shouting from elsewhere in the arena.</p><p>"Over here, Mr. Matthews!" Carl called out.</p><p>"Carl!" Mr. Matthews hurried over to us. "What are you doing here?"</p><p>"Just smoothing out the ice, earning my paycheck."</p><p>"You don't work here anymore, Carl."</p><p>Carl seemed perplexed. "Since when?"</p><p>"Since a year ago. But you keep on coming back again and again."</p><p>"Hockey is my life. I need to be a part of it."</p><p>"Then come to the games. But you can't keep breaking in here and running the Zamboni."</p><p>"And who do you know who can run the Zamboni better than good old Carl?"</p><p>"That's irrelevant."</p><p>Carl looked wounded. "To who?"</p><p>Mr. Matthews turned his attention to me. "You're Bill Thomas?"</p><p>I nodded. "Yes sir, I brought you a truck from Texas."</p><p>"Yes, a nasty, smelly truck."</p><p>"That's how I picked it up, and was told to deliver as is."</p><p>"OK, let's go check it out. Goodbye Carl. Now Carl."</p><p>Carl hung his head and stomped as he walked towards the exit door. Then he turned to me and pointed, saying "Don't forget to duck the puck."</p><p>I smiled. "I never will." <br /></p>A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-72591691800608696572020-05-30T17:39:00.001-07:002020-05-30T17:39:06.508-07:00WHO WAS THAT UNMASKED MAN?I was very nervous to be taking a car to Atlanta, because although the coronavirus seems to be lessening, I am in fear of another wave. Most every friend I've told that to say I'm crazy, but I remain cautious. <br />
<br />
When I arrived just outside of Atlanta, I stopped at a Subway for a sub to go. I've been carrying a mask to put on when I go out in public, but not everyone does. I really can't tell other people what to do, I don't feel I have the right. But I do feel a bit leery when I see people stand close to me wearing no masks.<br />
<br />
On the way into Subway, everyone I passed in the parking lot and shops had masks on. I felt a little more secure when I went inside and all workers and customers had them on. After five minutes waiting in line, a very large beefy man came in. He was not wearing a mask but had a massive unkempt beard. There were bits of food and tissue strewn about in the beard. He joined the end of the line.<br />
<br />
It took less than a minute for the woman standing in front of him to turn and say, "Shame on you, why aren't you wearing a mask?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, they're so uncomfortable and difficult with my beard."<br />
<br />
"Maybe it's time to trim the beard a little so you can put a mask on."<br />
<br />
"Lady, why are you so determined that I wear a mask?"<br />
<br />
"We've been living through a pandemic, or hadn't you heard?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, I hear all that fake news and its bull crap. The virus is nothing more than the flue, or a kind of flu,<br />
or something like that."<br />
<br />
"You need to wear a mask to protect others."<br />
<br />
"What others?" he asked.<br />
<br />
"Everyone else. Your friends, your neighbors."<br />
<br />
"Well you are neither one, so why are we having this conversation?"<br />
<br />
She was get very hot under the collar. "Sir, we all need to work together."<br />
<br />
"Why?" he shot back.<br />
<br />
"It's the only way to stop it, and get our economy up on its feet again."<br />
<br />
"That's your opinion. And you're telling me because of your opinion I have to do what you say and put on one of those stupid masks?"<br />
<br />
The woman took in a deep breath. "I am not telling you what to do. I am asking you, pleading, begging if necessary."<br />
<br />
He held his hand up. "Let me save you some time. No one is going to tell me how to live or what to do. I am a free American man and I can do as I please because my Constitution says so. I do not go by other people's rules, I am the master of my own kingdom. I keep a fine gun collection and will feel free to shoot someone if they do me wrong. And I'm pretty tired of all you got to say and I feel like cracking you across the jaw--"<br />
<br />
I quickly stepped back towards the man before he could act on his threat. But I was too slow, for the manager vaulted over the counter and rushed by me so fast and was on the bearded man in a flash. He effortlessly twisted the angry man's arm up behind his back and pushed him out the door. "Stay out of here, you're not welcome back." He came back inside and spoke to the line. "Very sorry folks, he's gone. I'd like to buy all of you a sandwich."<br />
<br />
The six of us in line were all very grateful, and I admired him very much. One minute he's a Subway manager, the next he's Batman. It made for a memorable afternoon.A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-3905270779611537562020-04-16T12:45:00.003-07:002020-04-16T12:45:54.951-07:00CORONAVIRUS HEROESThe second week of March, just before the worldwide pandemic got really bad in the U.S., I was still driving and delivering cars. I had picked up a car in Tulsa that was going to my hometown of Birmingham, where I had not been for nearly a year. Just driving to and fro back and forth across this great country.<br />
<br />
My malevolent boss Riff had called just before I reached Birmingham to tell me that all deliveries were postponed indefinitely. He told me to stay in Birmingham and sit on the car until further notice. As I drove into town, my stomach started growling loudly so I knew it was time to fuel up my body. I pulled into a Panera Bread near my apartment in Vestavia Hills and went inside thinking about tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich to go.<br />
<br />
I went inside and there was a surprisingly long line. I waited patiently for 15 minutes, then noticed an elderly gent standing behind me wearing a white coat. He had a nametag telling me he was Dr. Jones. "Excuse me sir, please go ahead of me," I said to him.<br />
<br />
Dr. Jones looked surprised. "I don't mind waiting."<br />
<br />
"Please, I insist. I want you to be able to get back to work as soon as possible. Plus I want to express my thanks for all of the good work all of you are doing."<br />
<br />
I stepped behind the doctor, and he smiled at me and nodded. "Well, if you insist. This is very kind of you."<br />
<br />
"Believe me, it's my pleasure."<br />
<br />
"I'm Bud Jones."<br />
<br />
"Nice to meet you, Dr. Jones. I'm Bill Thomas."<br />
<br />
"Please, call me Buddy. You'll pardon me if I don't shake your hand."<br />
<br />
"I completely understand, I've been hearing on the warnings on the radio."<br />
<br />
"It's going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better," he said.<br />
<br />
"What's your specialty?"<br />
<br />
"I joined the Air Force when I was 21 and served as a military surgeon for 40 years. When I got out of the Air Force, I went into private practice. I was a GP for 20 years, up until my wife died. I was very discouraged and decided to retire. Two years later, he comes this virus from China and the hospitals need all hands on deck. But they are woefully understaffed and there aren't nearly enough medical supplies. So I decided I needed to serve my country one more time."<br />
<br />
"Wow. That is incredibly inspiring."<br />
<br />
"What else could I do?"<br />
<br />
"Any idea how long this will last?" I wondered.<br />
<br />
"No one can say. Several months at the very least. But my concern is that when things start to improve, people will try to go back to business as usual. Which could cause a second wave of the virus that might be even worse."<br />
<br />
"I just worry about how we as a nation will recover from this."<br />
<br />
Buddy scratched his chin. "All depends on how you look at it. My feeling is that this is a real chance for us to turn over a new leaf. With any luck, people will realize to appreciate things and other people more and take nothing for granted. That love thy neighbor and the golden rule will mean something again. The world has become too jaded and cynical, kind people expressing warmth are routinely made fun of. We have devolved to the point that the majority of people are selfish and most interested in what benefits them. It's just the way of things in 2020."<br />
<br />
"Somehow things have changed a lot since I was a kid," I told him. "It felt like a simpler time, and people were generally kinder to each other."<br />
<br />
"This just may be our opportunity to turn things around and make it a better world. We can do it, Bill."\<br />
<br />
"Buddy, you make me believe we can."<br />
<br />
The Panera counter girl called Buddy up to order. Once he got his food, he wished me a fond farewell.<br />
<br />
I got a lump in my throat. "Thank you so much for all you are doing. Thanks for your service, both in the Air Force and now during your retirement. You and all the medical personnel and first responders are all very brave and much appreciated. God bless you, Buddy."<br />
<br />
Buddy paused and stared at me for a moment. "That really means a lot to me. Thank you, Bill." He walked towards the door, then turned back. "And hey, don't forget to help out your neighbor. Everyone needs to help everyone else right now, that's the only sure way to get through this."<br />
<br />
As he left, I felt lucky to have met him. What a great attitude, and the sacrifices he was making to help out others. We can all use some inspiration right now, and Buddy was mine.A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-65089578107735403202020-02-27T10:01:00.002-08:002020-09-29T22:20:10.713-07:00FUN VOTER REGISTRATION!The rain was pounding down in Arkansas as I drove into the small town of Hot Springs. I had heard about all the spas and springs, baths and massages and wanted to try them all. But first I had to deliver this Ford minivan to Mr. Spenser at some campaign headquarters office..<br />
<br />
As I drove down the streets of Hot Springs, the rain quickly went from pouring to a light sprinkle. I found the address, and as soon as I pulled up to the curb and parallel parked, Mr. Spenser came running out. "Bill! Bill, this is the place." I supposed he recognized the vehicle, and I was arriving precisely on time as agreed.<br />
<br />
I parked and got out. "This is your new van, Mr. Spenser."<br />
<br />
"Tom, please call me Tom."<br />
<br />
I reached my hand out and we shook. "Bill Thomas, pleasure to meet you."<br />
<br />
"Bill, may I ask you a personal check?"<br />
<br />
"A personal check?"<br />
<br />
Tom laughed. "I'm sorry, I meant a personal question. It's become a reflex habit to ask for money. But I'd really like to know." He stared at me in anticipation for a long pause.<br />
<br />
"What's the question?"<br />
<br />
"Isn't it obvious, Bill? Are you a registered voter?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, of course."<br />
<br />
"Why do you say of course?"<br />
<br />
"Because it's my civic duty, and because I want to have a say in who becomes President."<br />
<br />
Tom beamed. "Good answer! I can see we're cut from the same cloth. You are a patriot, sir."<br />
<br />
I held up the clipboard with his paperwork on it. "If you can just sign here, the van is all yours."<br />
<br />
"Just like that?" he asked.<br />
<br />
"Just like that."<br />
<br />
"It's my new campaign van. I'm running a Presidential campaign."<br />
<br />
"That's cool, who is your candidate?"<br />
<br />
"Why it's me, Tom Spenser. I want to give the people what they want."<br />
<br />
"What do they, or we, want?"<br />
<br />
He nodded knowingly. "Exactly."<br />
<br />
"Exactly what?"<br />
<br />
"Bill, look at the choices. We have crazy old Uncle Joe Biden, gay mayor Pete, and an old fart who preaches socialism. And then there's Trump, from the Beelzebub party."<br />
<br />
"So you're an independent?"<br />
<br />
Tom laughed. "Heck no, I'm a Quaker. Just think of all the free advertising and publicity I'll get every time someone buys a box of Quaker oatmeal. That's what's going to put me over the top!"<br />
<br />
There was another long pause. I cleared my throat. "So just sign here and I'll be on my way." The cold drizzle was getting uncomfortable.<br />
<br />
"Gladly Bill, I will sign just as soon as I get your pledge to vote for me."<br />
<br />
I was perplexed. "I never tell anyone who I'm going to vote for."<br />
<br />
"Because you consider it a private matter?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, it is a private matter."<br />
<br />
"But I bet you've never actually had a one on one conversation with a candidate who's a serious contender."<br />
<br />
I held up the clipboard. "Just put your John Hancock right here."<br />
<br />
"Well Bill, you just proved my point. John Hancock signed the Declaration of Independence and look at all the wonderful things that begat. The founding fathers would want you to vote for me. Don't let them down, Bill."<br />
<br />
I thought long and hard. "Tell you what Tom, if you sign this I will consider voting for you."<br />
<br />
Tom looked at me sideways. "Do you mean just consider, or do you mean seriously consider?"<br />
<br />
I inadvertently belched before saying "Yes".<br />
<br />
Tom grabbed my clipboard. "That's good enough for me, I can take that to the bank. And hey, now I can drive my new van to the bank. I have $5000 in my war chest, I'm unstoppable."<br />
<br />
"That's right," I nodded as I took the clipboard and grabbed my backpack out of the minivan.<br />
<br />
Tom gave me a sly glance. "So are you leaning towards voting for me now?"<br />
<br />
I wagged my finger playfully. "Secret ballot, Tom. But you will find out come election day."<br />
<br />
He startled me, grabbing me by both shoulders tightly. "Bill, with you in my corner, I just know I will be the next President." Tom began humming Hail To The Chief and I made a quick exit. Despite his zeal, I doubted Tom would become President of the United States. But I doubted the same thing about Trump. This may be the most important election in history, so vote for who you want.<br />
BUT VOTE!A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-45043396823398870612020-01-16T07:46:00.000-08:002020-01-18T20:06:58.307-08:00DIRTY DIAPERSI rolled into Pittsburgh driving a Ford Edge that I had picked up in Laredo, Texas. This would be my first official delivery in 2020, and I already had a plane ticket to get me to my next pick up down in Ft. Lauderdale.<br />
<br />
I had a bit of trouble getting by the security guard in his shack at the entrance to the subdivision. When he looked at my ID and asked me what my favorite color was, I felt confused. But once in the neighborhood, I had no trouble finding the house. I rang the doorbell and waited.<br />
<br />
Two minutes later, a woman opened the door carrying a crying baby. "It's about time you got here."<br />
<br />
"Hi, I"m Bill Thomas, here to deliver a car to Mrs. Howard."<br />
<br />
"Yes, yes, this is the place. Come in, come in."<br />
<br />
I followed her inside, though I wasn't sure why we needed to go into the house. "I just need you to sign this paperwork, and--"<br />
<br />
She spun around and handed me the baby. I only grabbed the kid because if I didn't it seemed like she was going to drop him. Or her, whichever.<br />
<br />
"It's a boy," she said as if reading my thoughts. "Just in case you were wondering. Little moron cries all the time."<br />
<br />
I was overcome by the strong smell of baby poop. "If you can just look at the car, then--"<br />
<br />
She made a stinky face. "Uh-oh, someone is ripe. Be a dear and change his diaper for me."<br />
<br />
This request stunned me. "I can't do that."<br />
<br />
"Oh sure you can. That little brat is a boy, not a girl, so you won't see any equipment you're not used to. Or frightened of."<br />
<br />
"I'm not frightened, but--"<br />
<br />
"Then what's the problem?" she asked. "Remove the dirty diaper, toss it, clean his butt with a wipe, then attach fresh diaper. Abra cadabra."<br />
<br />
"I'm not authorized to do this on my job."<br />
<br />
"I call BS on that, I'm sure there's nothing in your company handbook forbidding you from changing a diaper on the little bastard. His diarrhea is completely out of hand, and I'm tired of changing him."<br />
<br />
"Are you mad at the boy?"<br />
<br />
"None of your business. But since you ask, no I don't much care for his company. He eats and sleeps and craps his diapers. Mostly that last one. I'd sell this kid cheap."<br />
<br />
It was horrible to hear this woman talking about her child this way, it brought up bad memories from my past. But who am I to judge? "Would you like to come outside and look at your new car?"<br />
<br />
"I'm still waiting for you to change that diaper."<br />
<br />
I shook my head. "I cannot change this boy's diaper."<br />
<br />
"Why, what's your deal? Are you a prude? Afraid to see a baby boy's ding a ling?"<br />
<br />
"It's not appropriate. I don't know him."<br />
<br />
She put her hands on her hips. "Well allow me to introduce you. Mr. Driver, this is the little asshole."<br />
<br />
My cell phone rang, and I recognized the number. I picked up and said, "Hi, this is Bill Thomas."<br />
<br />
"Bill, this is Mrs. Howard. I'm sorry I didn't get in touch sooner to tell you I wouldn't be home. Annie my new nanny should be able to sign for it, right?"<br />
<br />
I spoke to the nanny. "Are you Annie?"<br />
<br />
She nodded. "I'm the nanny." I walked out on the front porch for privacy.<br />
<br />
"Bill, are you still there?" asked Mrs. Howard.<br />
<br />
"Yes, I was just stepping outside. Annie has been trying to get me to change your baby boy's diaper."<br />
<br />
There was a silent pause. "She did what?"<br />
<br />
"She told me the kid has the runs and she's tired of changing him. I also might mention that she's calling him some very bad names. He probably doesn't understand her, but still."<br />
<br />
"Listen, I am on my way out the door and can be there in 20 minutes. Will you please wait on me?"<br />
<br />
I checked the time, concerned about making my plane. "I saw a Starbucks down the road, I'll go get some coffee and meet you back here."<br />
<br />
By the time I got my coffee and got back to the house, I found Mrs. Howard in the front yard shouting at Annie about the baby. I slowly sidled up to her and asked Mrs. Howard to sign the paperwork.<br />
<br />
"Are you sure, Mrs. Howard? No second chances? I've never done child care, I'm more a telemarketer."<br />
<br />
"No Annie, not after the way you treated my baby."<br />
<br />
Annie pointed at me. "What did this SOB tell you, he's nothing but a big fat liar." I pulled out my phone and summoned an Uber, and mercifully it was one minute away from my location.<br />
<br />
Mrs. Howard was trying very hard to stay composed, but it was clear she was boiling over inside. "Did you ask this man to change a diaper?"<br />
<br />
"Duh, yeah, I've been doing it all day and frankly I get tired of it."<br />
<br />
"Then maybe you're in the wrong line of work."<br />
<br />
"And maybe you're a bad mother, Mrs. Howard."<br />
<br />
I saw my Uber coming as Mrs. Howard shouted for Annie to get off her property and never to return. I was climbing in my Uber when the driver asked "Are there two of you going?" I looked and saw Annie standing behind me waiting to climb in.<br />
<br />
"I need you to give me a ride. It's the least you can do after getting me fired."<br />
<br />
I smiled. "Goodbye and good luck, Annie." And I rolled on to new adventures, as Annie the nanny saluted me with both of her middle fingers.A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-59535416902587232702019-12-31T10:51:00.002-08:002021-11-03T11:01:43.443-07:00THE MAGIC CHRISTMAS TREEChristmas Eve found me in Dallas, Texas this year, home of the Dallas Cowboys. The friends I have in Dallas were out of town for the holidays so I got a motel room to stay in after I delivered the 2018 Chevy Malibu.<br />
<br />
The drop off address was less than two miles from the motel, so I decided to walk back after the customer signed off on his new car. It was a brisk and chilly night but it felt good to me. Got my blood pumping.<br />
<br />
I turned a corner and saw a large group of people all staring at something that was just out of my sight. As I got closer my view became unobscured and I could see a tall Christmas tree floating out on a small lake. The tree was decked out in lights and ornaments, and seeing it filled my heart with Christmas spirit. It's the same sensation I get each time I watch IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE.<br />
<br />
"Hey," I heard a voice say to me. I looked down and saw a short boy looking up at me. "Isn't it cool?"<br />
<br />
"What?"<br />
<br />
"The tree, what else?"<br />
<br />
"Oh yes, very cool."<br />
<br />
"My name is Joey, I'm ten years old and I believe in Santa Claus no matter what the other kids say."<br />
<br />
"Good for you. Keep on believing."<br />
<br />
"I will. Who are you?"<br />
<br />
"Bill Thomas, nice to meet you."<br />
<br />
"And how old are you, Bill?" Joey was plenty precocious.<br />
<br />
"I'd rather not say, I just met you."<br />
<br />
"Come on Bill, don't be shy."<br />
<br />
"OK, I am 39." I actually stopped counting birthdays once I hit 39, just like Jack Benny.<br />
<br />
"And do you believe in Santa?"<br />
<br />
"I do."<br />
<br />
"And do you believe that God's son Jesus was born in a manger?"<br />
<br />
"I certainly do."<br />
<br />
Joey pointed at the tree. "See how the tree just hovers over the water? We don't ask how or why."<br />
<br />
"I think it's floating on a raft."<br />
<br />
He shook his head. "No, no, we don't ask how or why. We just accept."<br />
<br />
I nodded. "Sure."<br />
<br />
"I believe in the spirit of Christmas and Santa Claus. I also believe Jesus was born and came to save us all. And I believe that magical tree is hovering over the water."<br />
<br />
Who was I to argue with a ten year old. "Keep your faith, it will serve you well."<br />
<br />
"Kind of like the Force?"<br />
<br />
"What?"<br />
<br />
"There's a movie called STAR WARS, and the Force is --"<br />
<br />
I cut in. "I know STAR WARS."<br />
<br />
"The Force and faith are not that different."<br />
<br />
"You make a good point. Faith is good," I agreed.<br />
<br />
"You're a nice man, Bill. I hope good things happen for you. I have faith that they will."<br />
<br />
Odd people and kids seem to be drawn to me. But I feel uneasy talking to a young person I don't know if his parents are not present. "Where are your mom and dad, Joey?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, I don't have any parents. I'm an orphan."<br />
<br />
"Joey!" I heard a woman's voice booming. She was a large lady who seemed to have no trouble at all plowing through the crowd of people until she reached us. "Joey, you just can't run off like that. You have to stay near Mommy."<br />
<br />
Joey looked at me as if something had dawned on him. "Actually, I do have parents."<br />
<br />
I smiled. "I can see that."<br />
<br />
Joey's mom looked at me "What's my boy been telling you? That he's an orphan?"<br />
<br />
"Well, I--"<br />
<br />
She didn't wait for me to finish. "Joey, why do you tell that lie to strangers?"<br />
<br />
"I'm incorrigible." <br />
<br />
She grabbed his arm to pull him along with her as she mumbled under her breath. Then she spoke up. "It's Christmas, boy, what's wrong with you?"<br />
<br />
Joey looked at me and pointed to the lake. "Remember the tree," he called out to me. "And faith and the Force."<br />
<br />
I watched him as they disappeared into the crowd. I was touched and full of good spirits and good will. I'm certain that I will never forget Joey and that magic Christmas tree. Merry Christmas, and may the Force be with you. <br />
<br />
<br />A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-68664401370452251742019-12-12T09:10:00.001-08:002019-12-12T09:10:42.466-08:00IMPEACH TRUMP FOR CHRISTMAS?After a particularly difficult delivery in Virginia, I rented a car and headed for South Carolina to pick up my next car. I pulled off at a truck stop in Emporia, and just wanted some quiet time and to collect my thoughts. I have delivered cars all over the USA, but the holiday season brings huge traffic jams that I have to navigate with no pleasure.<br />
<br />
While I was pumping gas into my rental car, I heard a voice say to me "What did you think of the hearings?"<br />
<br />
"Excuse me?" I looked around to the other side of the pump, and a tall, skinny man was putting gas into his pickup truck.<br />
<br />
"The Trump hearings. You think they'll impeach? Wait now, where are my manners? My name is Jed, what's yours?"<br />
<br />
"Bill Thomas," I said with a smile.<br />
<br />
"I like your smile, Bill Thomas, it almost looks sincere."<br />
<br />
"It is."<br />
<br />
"You know who's not sincere? Those crazy guys and gals in Congress. What in heck do they think they are doing? You don't mess with the President. And those Republicans are really after Trump, the Democrats keep on trying to defend him."<br />
<br />
I decided not to correct him. "I don't like talking politics."<br />
<br />
"Oh you don't, do you? Well you had better start paying attention bud, because a new civil war can't be far behind."<br />
<br />
"Far behind what?"<br />
<br />
"Exactly. Why do they hate the President so much?"<br />
<br />
"Who is they?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"The ones who hate the President. Pull your head up out of the sand. Are you even listening to me?"<br />
<br />
"Yes."<br />
<br />
"I don't think you are. Do you know that the root word of impeachment is peach? How could something so ripe and delicious and juicy also be so evil?"<br />
<br />
"An evil peach?"<br />
<br />
"No, an evil faction trying to bring down our President."<br />
<br />
I shrugged. "I guess a lot of people don't like him."<br />
<br />
"Well that's just too bad, he is the President and that's that. He is honest and sincere and compassionate. Congress is on a witch hunt trying to bring him down just cuz."<br />
<br />
"Just cuz why?"<br />
<br />
"Just cuz cuz. There is no reason for it, no quid pro quo, no read my lips. But you don't seem to care."<br />
<br />
"I do care."<br />
<br />
"Then stop your silence and speak your opinion. Free speech is a promise to you from the Declaration of Independence, and my motto is give me liberty or give me a gun."<br />
<br />
I finished filling up with gas, and hung the nozzle back onto the pump. "I guess you have to stand up for whoever you voted for."<br />
<br />
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jed seemed pretty upset with me all of the sudden.<br />
<br />
"You are clearly a Trump supporter, so you--"<br />
<br />
"Trump? Are you kidding me? I voted for Bernie Sanders. Free school for everyone forever!"<br />
<br />
I climbed into my car and left without saying goodbye. Politics make strange bedfellows, and inspire strange people at a gas pump at a truck stop.A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-25841692129912157462019-12-01T10:32:00.001-08:002019-12-31T14:06:25.428-08:00PLEASE PASS THE GRAVYAfter dropping off a Ford Flex near San Antonio, I got a call from my anything but cordial boss Riff. :"What's going on, loser?"<br />
<br />
"Happy Thanksgiving to you, Riff."<br />
<br />
"What did you just call me?"<br />
<br />
"Nothing, I was wishing you a happy turkey day."<br />
<br />
"Well it ain't today."<br />
<br />
"No, it's tomorrow, I'm a day early."<br />
<br />
"Can you just shut up and listen to me?" he growled.<br />
<br />
"Sure, what do you need?"<br />
<br />
"It's the customer who needs you to pick up a car in Las Cruces, New Mexico then drive it to Malibu beach."<br />
<br />
"Oh, California."<br />
<br />
"No, Malibu in Japan! Got another driver headed to Phoenix, he's gonna stop and pick you up then drop you in Las Cruces."<br />
<br />
"Who is the driver?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"Andy, my most reliable driver." I had engaged with Andy in the past and he was anything but reliable. He was a paranoid pill-popping maniac who refused to shower as long as he was on the road.<br />
<br />
"Oh please not Andy."<br />
<br />
"You should follow his example, he's an excellent driver. I gave him your drop off address, he should be there soon." I heard a horn honking and turned to see a car coming fast directly towards me. It jumped the curb and I dove over a hedge to avoid getting hit.<br />
<br />
"I'm looking for Bill," I heard a voice say. <br />
<br />
I rose up to look over the hedge and saw Andy in a late model Ford Thunderbird. "It's me, I'm Bill. You know me, Andy." <br />
"Well I don't know you, but you'd better hop in the train is leaving for New Mexico. Get in the back seat, the front seats are my office." I was happy to oblige, so I got in with my backpack and before I could close the door behind me he burned rubber taking off.<br />
<br />
I could smell his rancid body odor permeated the car's interior. "Ya know, Interstate 10 is a breeze from San Antonio to El Paso. It's so remote that the speed limit is 85mph."<br />
<br />
Andy stared at me in the rear view mirror. "Are you a new driver?"<br />
<br />
This surprised me. "Andy, it's me, Bill Thomas."<br />
<br />
"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" He lit a cigarette.<br />
<br />
"We have worked together four times. Uh, I don't think we're supposed to smoke in client's cars."<br />
<br />
Andy turned his head and shot me a warning glance. "I don't know you, pal, but I need to smoke when I'm taking speed. They just go hand in hand."<br />
<br />
"You're taking speed?"<br />
<br />
"None of your damn business." Andy pulled onto Interstate 10 and put the gas pedal to the floor. "You know why I get all the best delivery runs? Because I don't stop to sleep or shower. It's a big waste of time. You look like the kind of pansy who showers every day."<br />
<br />
"I do."<br />
<br />
Andy cackled. "Sucker! Hey I just realized that its Thanksgiving tomorrow, and I sure do like gravy all over everything. My Aunt Bessie made the best biscuits and gravy, bet you didn't know that."<br />
<div dir="auto">
<br /></div>
<div dir="auto">
"I did know that because you've told me before several times."</div>
<div dir="auto">
<br /></div>
<div dir="auto">
"Don't believe we've ever met."</div>
<br />
I scooted over to the left side of the back seat and leaned my head against the window. Andy kept on talking, but I was so tired I went right to sleep. I must have slept for several hours.<br />
<br />
I woke up very groggy and looked out my window. There was a car next to us, and the passengers were screaming and pointing frantically. Feeling disoriented, I looked to the front and saw that Andy had moved to the passenger seat and was napping. No one was in the driver's seat.<br />
<br />
Wait, what??<br />
<br />
I understood immediately why the car next to us was full of people waving at us and shouting. I slid over in my seat to the right and could see that Andy's left hand was discreetly on the bottom of the steering wheel, and his left leg straddled over the center console and his foot rested near the brake pedal.<br />
<br />
"Andy!" I yelled.<br />
<br />
"Shh!" He replied. "I'm playing possum."<br />
<br />
"But why?"<br />
<br />
"Shh, you're gonna blow it." I looked over at the car on our left, and the look of desperation on the faces of those in the car. Without warning, Andy suddenly veered to the right onto an exit ramp and left the car full of worried people behind. He pulled into a big truck stop, and got out of the car laughing.<br />
<br />
I was furious as I climbed out of the car and grabbed my backpack. "You think this is funny?"<br />
<br />
"You have to admit, that was hilarious." He lit another cigarette.<br />
<br />
"Are you nuts?" That's wasn't funny at all!"<br />
<br />
"Did you see the look on those faces? That was dope!"<br />
<br />
"They were terrified."<br />
<br />
Andy wheezed as he laughed. "I just love screwing with people. Don't you?"<br />
<br />
"No sir," I said, taking my backpack and heading inside.<br />
<br />
"Where are you going, fat boy?"<br />
<br />
"Hope you have a Happy Thanksgiving, hope you live to see it."<br />
<br />
"Don't be mad, you should be shaking while you laugh like a bowl full of jelly."<br />
<br />
"I will find another ride to Las Cruces."<br />
<br />
Once inside, I discovered that the Greyhound bus would stop here in 8 hours and take me where I was going. I hated to wait and I hate riding Greyhound, but anything was a better alternative than riding with a lunatic.<br />
<br />
On Thanksgiving this year, I am thankful that I did not die in the car.with Andy. I said a prayer that he would be safe, but also prayed for all the potential victims that shared the highway with crazy Andy. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-16752161237663916152019-10-22T14:14:00.001-07:002019-10-22T20:11:07.920-07:00RAINBOW BRIDGEIt was a beautiful day in Miami when I delivered a Ford Expedition to a man at his office downtown. My old friend John Hazzard had invite me to meet him for lunch. He said to come to the courthouse downtown and if I arrived early enough I could come into the court and watch him in action.<br />
<br />
I got to the courthouse and had to find the room where John was trying his case. I entered quietly and sat in the back row. An elderly bald man sat in the witness box, and John was cross examining him.<br />
<br />
"So tell us about that morning, Mr. Roosevelt."<br />
<br />
The man scratched his head. "It was a sunny morning, hot and humid at 7am already. The sky was blue and--"<br />
<br />
John interrupted. "I was referring to what happened between you and Mr. Jackson."<br />
<br />
"Well now, Bojangles Jackson is my dog, just a tiny little Sitt-choo. You must be talkin' 'bout Shorty Jackson, my ex-best friend."<br />
<br />
"What occurred between you and Mr. Jackson?"<br />
<br />
"Shorty or Bojangles?"<br />
<br />
"Let's stick to humans. Shorty in this case."<br />
<br />
"It was a warm Saturday morning, and he came by to go fishing like always. I was cooking bacon in the frying pan, just like always. You got to cook the bacon first so you can cook the eggs after in the bacon grease."<br />
<br />
"How long were you cooking bacon?" asked John.<br />
<br />
"Shoot, I been cooking bacon for 65 years, since I was 10 years old."<br />
<br />
The opposing counsel stood up. "Your honor, can we please stick to the facts?"<br />
<br />
But the witness cut him off. "Oh no you don't, that question is an elephant."<br />
<br />
The Judge let out a slightly bemused sigh. "Mr. Roosevelt, I think you mean irrelevant, but it is not, and you don't get to say that."<br />
<br />
Mr. Roosevelt looked outraged. "I'm a citizen of North America. The Decoration of Invocation gives me the right to free speech."<br />
<br />
John jumped in to keep things rolling. "You were having a peaceful morning, and then what went wrong?"<br />
<br />
"Shorty took a bite of my bacon and said it was undercooked. He's been disrespecting my bacon for many, many years. So I did the only thing I could, I smacked him upside the head with my iron skillet. Shorty fell off the chair, and there was Bojangles underneath him."<br />
<br />
"But what do you know about the stab wound in his chest?"<br />
<br />
"That had nothing to do with the bacon," explained Mr. Roosevelt. "I stabbed him in the chest for sending Bojangles to the rainbow bridge."<br />
<br />
"Rainbow bridge?" asked John.<br />
<br />
"You don't know the rainbow bridge? It's where dogs go when..." He drifted.<br />
<br />
"When what?"<br />
<br />
"I don't want to say."<br />
<br />
The Judge leaned over and said, "Sir, the court can compel you to answer the question."<br />
<br />
"Ain't no compelling to it. Shorty is a big man, way over 350 pounds. When he sat on little ole Bojangles, why he sent him to the rainbow bridge. So naturally, I stabbed Shorty in the chest with my sharpest chopping knife."<br />
<br />
"So it was a sharp knife?" asked John for emphasis.<br />
<br />
The witness looked confused. "I didn't believe a dull knife would do the job. And I wanted Shorty Jackson dead at that point."<br />
<br />
"And so Shorty joined Bojangles on the rainbow bridge?"<br />
<br />
Mr. Roosevelt stared at John like he was talking crazy. "A man don't go to the rainbow bridge, it's just for dogs."<br />
<br />
The Judge smiled. "And cats?"<br />
<br />
"I object to that!" shouted the witness.<br />
<br />
With great patience the Judge told him, "You don't get to do that, sir."<br />
<br />
"I know where Shorty Jackson is, he's dancing a jig with the Devil around a lake of fire."<br />
<br />
"Because you killed him?" asked John.<br />
<br />
He shrugged. "Guess so. If the iron skillet didn't do it, I'm sure the knife in his chest did the trick. But it was self-defense."<br />
<br />
"How was it self-defense?"<br />
<br />
"Shorty murdered Bojangles, so I had to kill Shorty. That's called self-defense."<br />
<br />
John was finished and the Judge called for a lunch recess with closing arguments that afternoon. John greeted me, cheerfully as usual. "What did you think of my case?"<br />
<br />
"Interesting," I said. "But are you acting as prosecutor?"<br />
<br />
"No Bill, this is a civil trial not criminal. That will be a separate trial with another lawyer. This is all about insurance, property and money."<br />
<br />
"And the rainbow bridge, I guess that's where dogs go when they die?"<br />
<br />
"My reply to that is what any good attorney would say -- who cares?"A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-37976148897129726192019-09-23T11:28:00.001-07:002019-09-23T19:27:55.313-07:00CLICHED IDIOMSThe summer of 2019 has been a brutal one. The heat has been oppressive and most folks are pretty miserable. Now being from Alabama, I'm no stranger to heat and humidity. But I drive cars to locations all over the lower 48, and even northern states have been unseasonably hot.<br />
<br />
That was true on this day in late August, when I drove a Ford Focus into Grand Rapids, Michigan. The customer had asked me to deliver to him at a movie theatre near his home. His name was Sam Peterson, and I drove to the front of the theatre where I saw a man waving eagerly at me. I parked and got out of the car. "Hi, I'm Bill Thomas. Are you Mr. Peterson?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, that's me, sure as I'm sitting here." He was standing and very enthusiastic. "Just enjoying this beautiful day. It's the quiet before the calm."<br />
<br />
"I have your new company car here."<br />
<br />
"For me?" He seemed to be overreacting more than a little bit.<br />
<br />
"Yes sir, you're going to love it."<br />
<br />
"Now don't jump the rifle, boy. I'll have to drive it a while before I love it. Only time will lie."<br />
<br />
"I assure you it's a good car."<br />
<br />
"Company cars are a quarter a dozen."<br />
<br />
"So you don't like them?"<br />
<br />
He shrugged. "Eight one way, half dozen the other."<br />
<br />
"Do you enjoy driving at all?"<br />
<br />
"Once in a green moon."<br />
<br />
"Green?"<br />
<br />
"Now a green car would have been great," he told me. I looked sadly at his red car. "Let's not beat around the proverbial Mulberry tree. Just be a man, bang the bullet, and tell me what you have to say."<br />
<br />
I was confused. "About what?"<br />
<br />
He patted his ample beer gut with open palm and said, "I'm ready for anything, I'm fit as a cello and ready for fun."<br />
<br />
"I'm not sure I follow you."<br />
<br />
"All you have to do is follow, and I will lead you on a wonderful adventure. It's a story as old as the valleys."<br />
<br />
"Valleys?"<br />
<br />
"Valley of the happy green giant. But don't fret Bill, every cloud has a creamy center."<br />
<br />
"I just need you to sign this paperwork--"<br />
<br />
He quickly interrupted. "What? No! Why?" He was quite agitated.<br />
<br />
"Mr. Peterson, I just need --"<br />
<br />
"I'm Sam Peterson," came another voice from behind me. I turned and saw a younger, well-dressed man walking towards me.<br />
<br />
"You are Mr. Peterson?" I asked.<br />
<br />
The man who was not Sam Peterson said, "Well, speak of the angel, and an angel appears."<br />
<br />
"Excuse me?" asked a baffled Sam.<br />
<br />
"Hi sir, I'm Bill Thomas and this is your car."<br />
<br />
The mystery man who was not Sam said, "Wait, you gave me the car and now you're taking it away? There's a name for people like you, but I can't recall it." He reached out his hand to shake Sam's. "Hello stranger, how in the world have you been?"<br />
<br />
Sam's eyes pleaded with me for context within the confusion. "What is happening, Bill? Who is this guy?"<br />
<br />
Mystery guy grinned and said, "Sam Peterson, good to meet you."<br />
<br />
Sam flinched. "But I'm Sam Peterson."<br />
<br />
Mystery guy took off a shoe and banged it on the car bumper. Sam and I both yelled "Hey!" at the same time.<br />
<br />
"That's it! Mystery guy shouted. "That's the straw that broke the Arabian knights!" He began giggling in a very odd way. "Oh well, when things go wrong, just start over. Back to the old Etch-a-Sketch. This morning I was talking to my psychiatrist in the mental ward, then I climbed out a window, and then a guy tries to give me a car but takes it back. Just like in The Lion King, it's the circle of squares."<br />
<br />
"The what?" asked Sam. <br />
<br />
I tried to ignore the mystery guy and tend to my customer. But Mr. Mystery had one more comment to make. "What's my name, you ask?"<br />
<br />
"No one asked," said Sam.<br />
<br />
"From one Sam to another, I strongly suggest you take everything this man says with a pound of salt." He was pointing directly at me. "Now if you gents will excuse me, I have a lunch date with a duck." He turned on his heel and sashayed away.<br />
<br />
Sam stared at me. "Who was that?"<br />
<br />
"No idea," I said. "I categorize folks like that as Bill's people."<br />
<br />
"Bill's people? You're Bill."<br />
<br />
"Yes, and Bill's people are God's own oddballs who always find me anywhere, everywhere."<br />
<br />
Sam smiled. Lucky you." He signed the paperwork I left and headed for the nearby Avis location to rent a car to my next pick up in Louisville, Kentucky. I thought a lot about Mr. Mystery, and hoped he would make it back to the hospital before dark.A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-67778227236031011412019-08-07T08:56:00.001-07:002019-08-07T08:56:13.102-07:00DEATH IN EL PASOIt is Saturday, August 3 and I was driving a Cadillac to El Paso just this morning. I was looking forward to seeing my good friend Pete who I had known for 20 years but had not seen in 5. He is quite simply one of the best guys I have ever known.<br />
<br />
If you read my stories, you should know that they are true but I always change the names to protect the innocent. Whether I'm writing about a good friend or an eccentric oddball I meet in my daily travels, I make up fictional names so no one is embarrassed or doesn't appreciate any limelight. Pete is just such a guy, and that is not his name, but today we'll agree to call him Pete.<br />
<br />
When he was only a boy, his family moved from Juarez, Mexico to El Paso, just across the border. Pete became an American citizen through the proper channels, and as a teenager began volunteering at reitrement homes to assist the elderly. He worked a full time job while in middle school and high school, but still got good grades. In college, he found a passion for helping immigrants to legally become citizens the way things were meant to be. He counseled and discouraged people who wanted to come illegally from Mexico because he truly hated to see friends get caught and deported. He joined the National Guard and spent a few years in Afghanistan.<br />
<br />
Pete also was very involved with his church, and did everything he could to help get members to Sunday service when they had no transportation. He used to work with the Big Brother's program, and went to orphanages to entertain by telling dumb yet funny jokes and play the guitar. He was no Eddie Van Halen, but he was gifted and sang with so much heart.<br />
<br />
Heart is the core of this good man. When we first met, I was at the lowest point in my life, having lost my mother and brother in a car accident. Our meeting was by chance, but he was actually able to distract me from my woes and got me back on a positive track. He has inspired me to try to show kindness wherever I go and try to spread smiles around. Pete will be the first to admit he ain't no saint, he likes his football rough and his beer cold. We all have faults, but somehow his are super easy to overlook because he is so thoughtful and generous.<br />
<br />
Earlier today, Pete took the youth group from his church to a Wal Mart in El Paso. A shooter came in and began killing and wounding people randomly. It was a senseless, horrible nightmare and any life taken is one too many. I know there are millions of people just like me out there who were praying or searching for answers. But there is no answer, this and all the other recent shootings have no rhyme or reason, there is just a lot of hatred and wickedness and uber-crazy folks out there.<br />
<br />
I am writing this on Saturday night upstairs in Pete's guest room. He is downstairs getting a lot of love and hugs from his family, who are so thankful he survived. When the shooting began, Pete took charge and firmly instructed the kids to follow him. They got out a door in the back, thank God. I send my own personal love and hope to all of the people who were impacted by the El Paso shooting. But I am also thankful for Pete, who got those kids out safely so they grow up and have full lives. We really need more good, caring selfless people like Pete in the world. God bless us all.A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-76330441026828413202019-07-30T09:47:00.002-07:002019-07-30T16:04:15.190-07:00SNAKES ON THE BRAINI drove through a thunderstorm on my way to Columbia, SC. I was going to deliver a slightly used Ford Explorer to a woman named Miss McDougal. She sounded very high strung on the phone, but I was hoping for a quick and simple delivery drop.<br />
<br />
The rain was letting up as I pulled into her short driveway just past 12 noon. I got out of the car, and a lady came running out the front door waving her hands in the air. "Miss McDougal?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"Snakes! Snakes!" shouted the redheaded woman.<br />
<br />
"Snakes?" I was puzzled.<br />
<br />
"Snakes in my house! Right now!"<br />
<br />
"Did you call someone to come get it out?"<br />
<br />
"No, I was counting on you to help me. You are Bill Thomas?"<br />
<br />
"Yes I am, but I'm here to deliver--"<br />
<br />
She interrupted me by grabbing my arm and tugging me into the house with her. "I think it may be a rattler."<br />
<br />
I stopped short. "A rattlesnake?"<br />
<br />
She pulled me even harder to get me moving. "I have complete confidence in your abilities. Hurry now, I'm afraid that snake may kill my dog Brutus." She led me down a hall to a room with the door open, with a doggie gate in the doorway. I saw Brutus, a Papillon dog, bouncing around playfully with his tail wagging. "Oh look, poor Brutus is terrified!"<br />
<br />
"Um, where's the snake?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"That huge monster is going to destroy Brutus."<br />
<br />
And that is when I saw the small black snake with a yellow stripe. Poor Brutus looked less threatened and more playful with his new snake toy. "OK, this shouldn't be a problem."<br />
<br />
"Pick it up, for pity's sake. Save Brutus!" she shrieked.<br />
<br />
I realized this was going to be a problem after all. I like snakes almost as much as Indiana Jones does. While I felt certain that the snake posed no threat, I wasn't crazy about the idea of picking it up with my bare hands. "Do you have a pair of tongs?"<br />
<br />
"Tongs? No. Wait a minute... yes!"<br />
<br />
"Can you get them please?"<br />
<br />
"Yes I will, but first I want you to get rid of that snake," she said.<br />
<br />
"I need the tongs to get the job done," I explained.<br />
<br />
She went from distress to hilarious disbelief in two seconds flat. "Do you intend to cook the snake?"<br />
<br />
"No ma'am, bring me the tongs and I'll show you."<br />
<br />
She looked upset at me and bowed to me low and deep. "Yes, your majesty, whatever you say." She had suddenly developed a bad attitude aimed directly at me. After going into the kitchen, she returned carrying the tongs with an air of grandeur. "Here are the blessed tongs you requested, my lord."<br />
<br />
I chose to ignore her sarcasm and took the tongs so I could grab the snake and pick it up. Brutus seemed disappointed to lose his new plaything. I went to the front door and tossed the snake gently onto the grassy yard. Then I turned back to Miss McDougal and asked her to sign for the car. She did so quickly and I said "Thank you."<br />
<br />
"Oh listen, before you leave I have a real rat problem down in my basement." Rats are my biggest fear, because of a serious childhood traumatic event that had to do with being punished by my mom. "I need you to go down there and catch them just like you did with the snakes."<br />
<br />
I waved at her and said, "Goodbye Miss McDougal." I picked up my bag and started to walk towards a nearby city bus stop.<br />
<br />
"Don't you dare leave before your job is completed. I want those nasty rats out of my house, pronto!" But I was at peace as I walked down the sidewalk, for I felt I had done my job and just a little bit extra.A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-64370750847743187272019-07-18T09:10:00.001-07:002019-07-26T20:39:07.401-07:00TOO DRUNK TO FALLIt was a bright, sunshiny day in Colorado as I was headed to deliver a brand new Toyota Sienna minivan to just outside of Cheyenne, Wyoming. There was a new skydiving school that was waiting on their new minivan, which I had driven all the way from Atlanta.<br />
<br />
I planned to arrive early when they opened so I could accept the ride they had kindly offered me. This driving day had started at 5am, and I was tired already as I pulled into the entrance of Skippy's Skydiving. It was way out in the country, and I felt especially lucky that I was getting a lift to the transportation hub of Cheyenne.<br />
<br />
There was a long driveway winding up to the hangar where the skydiving office was. As I came around the side of the building, I saw a man, a woman and a Pastor wearing the white collar. The man and woman stumbled about aimlessly, as the Pastor flipped through his Bible. The man was wearing a tall Cat in the Hat red and white hat, and had no shirt on. He wore empty ammo belts across his chest, not unlike Chewbacca in STAR WARS. And there were Ugg boots on his feet. The woman had on short shorts and a tube top, and her belly proclaimed her tenth month of pregnancy. She wore fuzzy purple house slippers on her feet. I had to wonder what they were doing here, but decided to mind my own business.<br />
<br />
Inside the office, I was greeted with effervescent enthusiasm by the owner himself. "Are you Skippy?" I asked him.<br />
<br />
"Nope, Skippy is my son, I named my company after him. My handle is Skipper," he said as he marched up and gave me a hearty handshake. "You must be Bill Thomas."<br />
<br />
"Yes sir, I must."<br />
<br />
He patted me on the back. "So, where's my minivan?"<br />
<br />
Just at that moment, the man and woman outside opened the door forcibly and loudly and practically fell in through the doorway. "We are here!" the man shouted.<br />
<br />
"I see that," said Skipper with severe hesitation.<br />
<br />
"I am Jocko, and this little lady is my one and only, Deedee. We are here to jump out of a plane and get married."<br />
<br />
Skipper watched them, sizing them both up. "Yes, I got the 30 messages you left on my answer machine last night."<br />
<br />
"Nobody would answer the damn phone so I kept on calling."<br />
<br />
"Yeah well, you two are not jumping out of a plane."<br />
<br />
"That sounds like a challenge to me!" shouted Jocko.<br />
<br />
"Not a challenge, just a fact. You are drunk and you're not going up."<br />
<br />
"How dare you call us drunk, you don't even know me, us, me."<br />
<br />
"I don't need to know you to know you're sloshed. I could tell on your phone messages."<br />
<br />
"You got no kind of good business acumenization!"<br />
<br />
"You're wasted."<br />
<br />
"Just what are you inseminating? That we are too drunk to jump?"<br />
<br />
"No, you are too drunk to fall."<br />
<br />
"Look, I'm a grown ass man, no one body tells me what I can't and can't do."<br />
<br />
Deedee spoke up. "Mister, we wasn't gonna jump out alone, we was gonna hook up and skydive<br />
tandem with your guys."<br />
<br />
"When you are drunk, you are unpredictable, and could be a danger to my men."<br />
<br />
Jocko was getting mad. "You can't tell us what to do. We had a few drinks overnight and decided we had to get married now, and we were gonna jump out of a plane first. We got a preacher outside who is gonna marry us up as soon as we land."<br />
<br />
"You're not jumping out of my plane."<br />
<br />
"Make me!" screamed Jocko. "I'd like to see you make me. I'm a grown ass man and I do what I want to when I want to. I pity the man who gets in my way."<br />
<br />
Skipper walked me over to the door, and indicated for Jocko and Deedee to exit with him so he could lock up. He was clearly the only one working there this early, but was being nice enough to close and give me a ride that would be an hour round trip for him. As Skipper was looking over the minivan, the Pastor walked up to me. "Hello, I'm Pastor Bob."<br />
<br />
"Hello Pastor, I'm Bill Thomas." We shook hands. "I'm on the road a lot driving around the country. You think you could throw some prayers my way?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, gladly. But right now, I'm a little confused as to why I'm here. I got an emergency call during the night telling me that a couple had to get married at this address first thing in the morning. I did not know untill I arrived that they planned to jump out of a plane first."<br />
<br />
"I don't think that's going to happen," I said.<br />
<br />
"No?"<br />
<br />
Jocko walked up. "Well, bad news Pastor Bill, we can't jump out of the plane."<br />
<br />
"I'm Pastor Bob."<br />
<br />
"I'm Bill," I offered.<br />
<br />
"Who asked you?" snarled Jocko. "So go ahead and marry us, Padre."<br />
<br />
Pastor Bob smiled. "OK, who has the marriage license?"<br />
<br />
"The who?" asked Jocko.<br />
<br />
"Marriage license. You need it to get married."<br />
<br />
"We can get it later, so go ahead," demanded Deedee.<br />
<br />
"No, I'm sorry, it doesn't work that way," explained Pastor Bob.<br />
<br />
Deedee was very angry. "Look, I'm a grown ass woman, and if I want to get married dammit I'm gonna do it. It's not like I haven't been married before."<br />
<br />
"You were married and then divorced?" asked the Pastor.<br />
<br />
"No, I didn't divorce Leroy, I just left his sorry ass."<br />
<br />
"Then you are still married, and I can't perform the ceremony."<br />
<br />
Jocko began walking in wide circles and cussing like a sailor. Deedee began to plead with Pastor Bob. "I just got to get married, can't you see that?"<br />
<br />
Pastor Bob looked sympathetic. "I understand your situation. When are you due?"<br />
<br />
"Due to what?"<br />
<br />
"To give birth?"<br />
<br />
Deedee threw her head back and cackled. "I ain't pregnant! I just got a little beer belly."<br />
<br />
Skipper motioned for me to come to the minivan, and as I stepped over to him, Jocko came up and grabbed me by the shoulder. "Hey you!" he yelled at me. "You've been awful quiet, I'd like to hear your opinion on all these goings ons."<br />
<br />
"I don't have an opinion." I turned to keep walking and Skipper walked towards me.<br />
<br />
Jocko grabbed me again. "Don't you turn your back on me!" In an amazing fluid motion, Skipper used his leg to sweep Jocko's legs out from under him. He fell hard onto his back, then began moaning, "Baby, baby, I'm hurting." Deedee rushed to his side.<br />
<br />
Skipper and I climbed into the minivan. "Thanks for the save, Skipper."<br />
<br />
"He was getting way too aggressive so I had to put him on the ground. Did I tell you I run a Karate school at night?" We laughed and talked for the half hour ride into Cheyenne. I found myself hoping that Jocko and Deedee would someday find their bliss.<br />
<br />A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-4534794738444769062019-06-26T10:48:00.001-07:002019-07-29T22:26:45.781-07:00THE SILVER CROSS"And another thing!" shouted my boss Riff over the cell phone. "You need to start making better time in delivering cars."<br />
<br />
"I've never been late, not once," I protested.<br />
<br />
"Oh ha ha ha, very funny. That's about as funny as a marshmallow cookie laced with rat poison."<br />
<br />
"Call you back once I have delivered, Riff." I hung up before he could say more. I knew it was all crap he was saying, but his words and his tone affected me much more than usual. It was my birthday last week, and the only call I got was from my Cousin Chris. For a guy who has over 100 good friends nationwide and sees most of them several times per year, I felt very forgotten.<br />
<br />
But I am growing older, and find that my friends who had kids now also have grandkids, so no time for Bill Thomas. Normally I would think of this as a pity party, but I know myself well enough by now to realize that I chose not to get married and have kids. So as I age more, less folks have time to spend with me. It recently led me to a dark place in my mind that I've been trying to climb out of. Cousin Chris suggested that I talk to someone about it, but also said I can always speak to God.<br />
<br />
I have prayed hard every single day that God would guide me, lead me on the right path, and show me the way. Now I grew up going to church every Sunday, but when I got into college I sort of drifted away. I never stopped believing in God, or that He created us and loves us. Just feeling so alone and not good at all with getting messages from God.<br />
<br />
As I drove to Santa Fe I had made some calls and found that there was a counseling clinic that could take me that very afternoon as a walk-in patient. The Toyota Camry I was driving was going to a man in Santa Fe, but he couldn't take delivery until tomorrow, so I would have time to get counseling, get dinner, get a room.<br />
<br />
The sun was burning brutally hot in the New Mexican skies. I neared Santa Fe and started paying close attention to the audio directions given to me by the GPS. Traffic got very bad, as it was the beginning of rush hour. Every city has a rush hour. But today it was getting on my nerves more than usual to have people cut me off then slam on their brakes. Or forcing me to stop suddenly because they are coming into my lane beside me.<br />
<br />
I found the counseling center and went inside. I felt like I was about to start crying, and it takes a lot to make me cry. When I got to the Doctor's office door, I opened the door only to find a strange woman on the other side of the door fighting with the doorknob. She came along with the door as I opened it.<br />
<br />
Spreading my arm out to gallantly offer her the road, I said "I've got the door for you, ladies first."<br />
<br />
"What exactly do you mean? That since I'm a woman I can't open doors for myself? You only want doors in this world so that you can lock women away and live in your misogynistic chauvinistic world. Am I right?"<br />
She spit at my feet and stormed off, so I guess she had some issues she was working through.<br />
<br />
I walked up to the reception desk. A bright and perky young lady smiled and said, "Welcome, I'm Corky and how can I help you today?"<br />
<br />
"My name is Bill Thomas, I called ahead and was told to come in."<br />
<br />
"OK, now are you a regular patient?"<br />
<br />
"No, I'm just passing through town."<br />
<br />
"How long have you lived in Santa Fe?"<br />
<br />
I shook my head. "No, I don't live here, I'm just visiting."<br />
<br />
She looked perplexed. "You are a resident of the state of New Mexico, aren't you?"<br />
<br />
"No ma'am--"<br />
<br />
"Please do not call me ma'am."<br />
<br />
"Sure, well I'm really down and needed to talk to someone."<br />
<br />
"We are all down and we all need someone to talk to. Unfortunately, this is not that place. At least not for you."<br />
<br />
"Why?"<br />
<br />
"Don't be silly, you know why. You are not a resident of this state, and you don't have an appointment."<br />
<br />
"The lady on the phone said that y'all would take me as a walk-in."<br />
<br />
"Are you pulling my lariat? No one here would tell you something like that. Now I have an opening one week from today..."<br />
<br />
"I won't be here then."<br />
<br />
"Where will you be?"<br />
<br />
"Driving somewhere in the USA."<br />
<br />
She scratched her head with her pen. "Gee, that's a little vague. Sorry honey, guess you'll just have to suck it up and try to move forward."<br />
<br />
I stared at her slack jawed. "That's your psychological advice for me?"<br />
<br />
"Gosh no, I'm no psychiatric. Sugar, I barely made it out of high school. Good luck to you."<br />
<br />
As I walked away from her desk, I was feeling defeated and forlorn. My legs wobbled and I felt dizzy headed. I decided to sit in the waiting room for a second before going back out into the intense heat. My cheeks felt warm and I felt a tear rolling down my face. I closed my eyes and said a prayer, trying like crazy to hang onto my faith.<br />
<br />
Ten minutes later, I got up and walked out the door. I felt a strong hand grab my shoulder from behind. I spun around expecting trouble, but it was an elderly hispanic gentleman. "Hold out your hand."<br />
<br />
"Beg pardon?"<br />
<br />
He took my hand and I allowed him to guide it to where he wanted it, hand open palm up. He held his closed fist over my hand then opened it. A silver cross on a chain fell out of his hand and into mine. He smiled sweetly at me and said "God is watching over you. He's got you." And then he walked away.<br />
<br />
I felt like an enormous weight was lifted off my shoulders. I felt more free and joyful and alive than I have in months. Because I came to see that even when things seem rough, I am never alone. If there is such a thing as receiving a sign from God, I feel like I just got one.A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439437153221430510.post-35246123812855471952019-03-04T10:21:00.002-08:002019-03-10T21:44:53.168-07:00FLAMING GIRAFFESIt was New Years Eve and I was headed to Florida to see good friends. I had picked up a car in Beaumont, Texas that was headed to Daytona Beach, so my friend's beach house was not really out of my way. It was just west of Mexico Beach, where a hurricane had all but wiped out that little town in the fall. My buddy Chase has a real nice beach house, though I had only seen pictures. And my good buddy Frank was coming down from Birmingham to meet us. Any excuse to go down to the coast of the Florida panhandle was good enough for Frank.<br />
<br />
Chase had sent me a text with his address on it. I entered it into my phone's GPS and got directions while I was still headed east through Alabama. When I got off on Interstate 10 in Florida, I headed down a two lane highway towards 98, the coastal highway. I knew all of the directions so far by past trips to Destin and Fort Walton but as I neared 98 I was not sure where to go next. It was 5:30pm and I knew that Happy hour had started. I wanted to get there in time for the big seafood fest I knew they'd be cooking. When I consulted my phone, it was dead. Not only could I not retrieve directions, but I had his address exclusively in my phone text, so I was basically clueless.<br />
<br />
I turned right and drove for ten slow miles. The speed limit was 55, but most vehicles were big trucks pulling boats or construction equipment and doing 40mph. After ten miles, I turned around and headed the other direction. Fifteen miles beyond where I had turned onto 98, there was a small town called Carrabelle. The fifteen mile stretch had nothing but houses, which were a ways off from the highway. So when I passed a bar in this little town, I guessed I better stop and charge my phone.<br />
<br />
It was 6:45 when I walked into the bar, and was getting dark out. I looked all over the place for an outlet to plug into but none were to be found. I walked up to the bartender and asked her if she had an outlet I could plug into. "It'll cost you a beer," she said, promptly opening a Busch and setting it in front of me. I handed her my cell phone with the charger plugged in, and she plugged the other end into an outlet behind the extremely cluttered bar.<br />
<br />
I walked over and leaned on the railing over `the water. It was truly beautiful, I have always loved the Gulf coast of Florida and was soaking it all in. And then I felt a peck on my back, and spun around to find a large green parrot standing on the table right behind me. "Hello," said the bird.<br />
<br />
The owner of the parrot was a large, burly, crusty old salt. "That's Janie, she wants to see if you have a cracker for her." I patted my pockets like I was looking for a cracker, then shrugged. The man pointed at a bowl on the table full of packets of saltine crackers. I reached over and picked one up, opened it, then looked at the man.<br />
<br />
"May I give her one?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"Well Janie is waiting on you." I held the cracker near Janie, and she grabbed it in her beak and moved it with her claws. "By the way, my handle is Teddy, but everyone calls me Skipper. Watch your step around here."<br />
<br />
"OK I will."<br />
<br />
"Carrabelle can be a dangerous place if you don't watch out. I gotta pee." He got up from the table and left. I walked down the railing to the other end, where a man stood shucking oysters to send to the bar or tables.<br />
<br />
"Howdy," I said. He said nothing. "Are the oysters any good?"<br />
<br />
"I sure wouldn't eat them."<br />
<br />
"Why?"<br />
<br />
"They are nasty," he exclaimed.<br />
<br />
"Really?" I love raw oysters with lots of horse radish in my sauce, and had never heard a man shucking being so critically blunt about his oysters.<br />
<br />
"They aren't the good ones from Apalachicola, they are from New Orleans. And they are all nasty." Then he shut down and was completely silent again. I sipped my beer for five minutes, and then he said "Giraffes."<br />
<br />
"Beg pardon?"<br />
<br />
"Giraffes," he repeated.<br />
<br />
"What about them?"<br />
<br />
"Watch out. A giraffe escaped from the local zoo, and is running free down around these parts. Also tigers and bears and elephants."<br />
<br />
The closest zoo that I knew of was in Tallahassee, but I couldn't imagine that all of those animals traveled this far away on their own steam. Plus this guy didn't seem too credible. I told him my situation and how I was trying to find my friend Chase.<br />
<br />
"I know him."<br />
<br />
"You know Chase?"<br />
<br />
"Yep." He gave me the address on highway 98, and I looked at my watch and saw it was 7:15. That would have been plenty of time for my phone to charge, so I went to the bartender and she handed me back the phone and charger. I hopped in the car and drove down the fifteen miles watching the mailboxes for an address. Sometimes they were hard to see, because of monster size piles of debris along the side of the road that had been collected from the mess the hurricane left.<br />
<br />
It was the very last house on the left before you reached a long stretch of bare beach with no houses. The owner was in the front yard, and his name was Chase, but he wasn't my friend and he didn't know him. I had hit the power button on my phone but had no reason to look at it yet. When I did, I saw it still had no power. I drove back very slowly to Carrabelle looking in every driveway for my friends' cars. But again, this was difficult with the houses so far off the road and the pitch black night with a canopy of trees on either side of the highway.<br />
<br />
When I got back to the bar, I found the manager and explained I needed to charge the phone. He said he didn't know why it didn't charge behind the bar, but let me sit in the corner of the kitchen next to an outlet and charge my phone. If I would buy a beer. It only took twenty minutes to realize that my phone wasn't taking the charge so I was high and dry.<br />
<br />
I should mention that I'm a lightweight and can't drink on an empty stomach. It upsets my tummy and gives me a buzz. So I was driving in the dark, only knowing that the house was somewhere on this fifteen mile stretch. I want up and back that fifteen miles almost a dozen times. By 11:45, I was starving and sweating and feeling desperate and dizzy. I would look at each and every driveway but never saw either of their cars. Addresses on the mailbox meant nothing at this point.and I had no idea where I was going.<br />
<br />
And then a flaming giraffe ran across the road in front of me. I've hallucinated before, but it was never so realistic and vivid. I could actually feel the heat as I past it running down the side of the highway. And that is when I saw what looked exactly like Chase's boat in front of a house. I had seen lots of pictures of it on Facebook. As I pulled slowly down the long driveway, I saw two cars but they were not Chase or Frank's. I parked next to them and walked around the house on stilts. I looked up at the two levels above, and saw no lights on in the windows. This could not be the place, because I knew for sure that Frank and Chase would be up partying on New Years Eve.<br />
<br />
In desperation, I walked a circle around the house shouting their names. When I got to the front of the house, I heard a shout back to me from the back of the house facing the beach. I ran to see if it was someone who could help me find them. I looked up at the balcony on the third story and saw a figure in the shadows. "Bill, is that you?"<br />
<br />
"Chase? Oh thank God its you, Chase."<br />
<br />
"Meet me at the front door I will let you in." When I got to the door, Chase and Frank were both there.<br />
<br />
Frank greeted me with a headlock and noogies on my head. "Bill! Billy boy! Can you bake a cherry pie, Billy boy?"<br />
<br />
"I can bake a cherry pie, then I'll spit right in your eye."<br />
<br />
"Where have you been buddy, we've been so worried."<br />
<br />
"I couldn't find the place. It's a really long story. I didn't know the address so I was looking for your cars."<br />
<br />
"I guess we both have new cars since you saw us last." replied Chase. "We tried to call and text you a lot."<br />
<br />
"My phone is broken. So I had no address, no directions and no way to contact you. But it's New Years eve, why were the lights out?."<br />
<br />
"We gave up on you and went to bed two hours ago," Chase explained.<br />
<br />
"On New Years eve? Seriously?"<br />
<br />
"There's no girls here, Bill."<br />
<br />
"Yeah," agreed Frank. "It's not a party without girls." Frank is always the bartender, and immediately walked to the bar to mix us all a drink. "You did get here just in time to toast the New Year with us. And tell us your latest Driving Fool story, which sounds like it was tonight."<br />
<br />
Chase patted me on the shoulder. "Bill, did you see anyone burning those big piles of debris left on the side of the highway? I can actually feel the heat in my car when I pass them."<br />
<br />
And then it dawned on me. I had only partially been imagining things. "Oh, that would explain the flaming giraffe."<br />
<br />
"The what?" asked Frank as he put my drink in front of me.<br />
<br />
Chase was also confused. "You met a gay giraffe? This oughta be good."A DRIVING FOOLhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13404591859325885389noreply@blogger.com0