THE PRESIDENT'S NIECE

I was told by my boss Riff to pick up a car from a lady in Florida. The car was going to her horse ranch up in Virginia, 30 miles outside of Washington, D.C. And he told me that she was the great niece of a famous former President of the United States.

Riff called me at the last minute to say that another driver would be meeting me at her Florida mansion. He said that she had two cars, and that we were to drive them north in tandem. When I walked up her driveway, I heard a male voice say loudly, “It’s you!” Out from behind a big tree stepped Andy, the paranoid driver who I had come across several times in the past. He was obviously high as a kite.

“Hello Andy,” I said.

“Don’t call me that. Do not call me Andy like we are friends. You always conspire against me.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean you to mistake me for being a friend. I was just trying to be polite and civil.”

“Don’t try any of that stuff either. Hear me? I’ve had just about enough of you, Mister. I know you and your game, you are out to get me!”

“Fine, whatever.”

“Oh no, you can’t just blow me off like yesterday’s news. We are being forced to work together, to ride in tandem, to caravan together. So just remember that I’m in charge.”

“I’ll be going my own way, I suggest you do the same.”

“You will be subservient to me, you will follow my directions. You follow me? Cuz if you don’t, I will punish you. I will come down on you like the wrath of God, or worse, like the wrath of a woman scorned. God has no wrath like a woman scorned!”

The lady walked out the door. She seemed distracted and a little bit haughty. I tried to shush Andy. “Shh, quiet, here she comes,” I pleaded.

“Don’t you shush me, I will not be shushed.”

“Shh!”

“I will not be shushed by the likes of you. Say, do you know who her father is?”

“Andy, shut up.” She stepped up to us. “Hello ma’am, I’m Bill Thomas and he’s Andy.”

“Fine. Who is driving the Escalade?” She held out a set of keys.

Andy stepped forward and snatched the keys from her hand. “That will be my honor. I am the best driver in our company, and proud of it. By the way, I loved your father. He was the best leader this country ever had.”

She let out a resigned sigh. “He was my great uncle.”

Andy winked at her. “I know he was, I just bet he was. You guys must be rich, based on what I’m seeing here. How much would you say you’re worth, total assets?”

The woman looked perturbed and not a little shocked. “That’s none of your business. Just do your job.”

Andy acted like he was trying to flirt. He leered at her and spoke suggestively. “You do YOUR job.” Much as I don’t care about Andy, I was feeling embarrassed for him. He was so clueless.

She turned to me. “So you’ll be driving my Mercedes?”

“Yes. I will be there day after tomorrow.” She turned and went back into the house.

Andy began to give me instructions about how we were going to drive, when we were going to take breaks. I completely ignored him, climbing into the Mercedes sedan and taking off. The car was so full that there was barely enough room for me and my duffel bag. She had loaded it beyond capacity, and I was worried that I couldn’t see out the back window.

It was a long hard drive up to Virginia. There were a whole lot of snowbirds going up I-95 from Florida to their summer homes in the northeastern states. The problem with all these many senior citizens on the road all at once is that some of them go 65mph, some 60, and some 50. It causes a whole lot of unnecessary traffic backups. Especially when the ones going 50mph get in the left lane and just stay there. Most people just line up behind them like there is no other choice. I personally get into the right lane and cruise on by them. The speed limit is 70, and that is what I intend to do.

I called the former President’s niece early on the day I was set to deliver. She was not answering her phone, so I simply told her voicemail what time I would arrive. As I neared her horse ranch, the roads got more winding and narrow, and following the Mapquest instructions became increasingly difficult. The final dirt road that led five miles to her property was one lane, and made things tricky when an huge truck came towards me from the opposite direction. I had to press the car on the side as close as I could snuggle up to a barbed wire fence. Even then, I was not too sure that the truck would get by me. There were literally inches to spare.

When I pulled up in front of her ranch house, she came marching out in a huff and put her hands on her hips. “Where is the other guy?”

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“The guy driving my Escalade. He left a very strange message for me this morning saying that he was going to take some time and stop at Civil War battlefields along the way. He said my father would understand.”

“I think he meant your great uncle.”

“I know what he meant. I don’t care what he meant. Where is my Escalade?”

“I think you should call my boss Riff.”

“No, I’m asking you.”

“No disrespect meant, but I got your Mercedes here safely. I can’t be responsible for another driver.” Especially when it’s Andy, I thought to myself.

“Leave the car there, I’m going inside to call your boss. You may leave.”

“I have to wait for the airport shuttle to come and pick me up.”

“Honestly, I am not happy with you waiting here on my property.”

I looked around at the vast nothingness. “I’m not sure where else I can wait.”

“Just please make yourself scarce.” She stormed inside, very unhappy.

I walked up the driveway to the dirt road, guessing I could see the shuttle better when it came to pick me up. As I walked along, a large mocha colored dog came running up to me. He really wanted to be friends, and I really love dogs. So I bent down and petted him. He licked me on the face. After a few minutes, I continued up the driveway, and he followed me. The woman came out the door and began to shout. “Potus! Potus! Come back here.” The dog didn’t budge. “Potus, get down here right now! Potus! I will whip you if you don’t get down here.” I felt sorry for the dog. I would not want this woman to be mad at me, but Potus seemed happy to hang out with me. So I started walking back down towards the house, and the dog followed me. She pointed at me. “What are you doing?” she said, sounding confused and nervous.

“What?”

“Why are you coming back into my yard?”

“The dog is following me.”

“The dog is coming because I called the dog. You can stay up by the road.” I stopped, and the dog stopped next to me. The woman seemed irritated. She turned on her heel and went into the house. Then she came back out onto the porch carrying a raw steak. “Potus!” The dog went bounding towards her, and she went into the house. The dog followed her, and she slammed the door hard.

As I stood waiting for the airport shuttle, my cell phone rang. “Hello, Riff.”

“I just got a very upset call from the lady you delivered to. She said you were molesting her dog.”

“I pet the dog, that’s all.”

“Why in the world did you deliver without Andy?”

“Because Andy is a flake. He called the lady and said he is stopping to tour Civil War battlefields on his way up. He may show up in the next two days.”

“Well then, your job is to back him up. He happens to be patriotic. If he delays delivery, then so do you.”

“No sir. I deliver promptly and responsibly, on time as promised.”

“You are a freakin’ boy scout. No one likes a good citizen. You need to get rough around the edges and learn to be a man!”

I hung up. Then I turned and looked at the house where Potus lived. Suddenly, I remembered having seen pictures of this particular President and his family in front of this house. Wow. With all the weird people I meet and strange adventures I experience, there is something pretty cool about this job sometimes.

WAITING FOR THE BOSS

I had to meet a guy in Cleveland to pick up his car. He was moving to south Texas, and I was moving his company car down so that he was free to drive a U-haul truck and tow his wife's car. His name was Jody, and he was a friendly fellow.

We walked around his car in a parking lot where he had designated for us to meet. I was doing my condition report, marking down scratches, dents, etc. He was following me and watching closely. When I was done, I held out the clipboard with my paperwork to him. "OK Jody, if you will just sign here I'll be on my way."

"What? No, Bill, I can't do that."

"I don't understand, what's the problem?"

"My boss wants to see the car."

"Jody, signing this simply means that you handed me the keys, and you agree that the car is in the condition I have listed here."

"Oh sure, sure, I get that. Only my boss... well, you know how he is."

"Honestly, I don't. I've been doing this job for a while, and I've never had anyone's boss have to sign off on a car. I assure you it is not necessary."

"Right, but then we're talking about Eddie. And you know Eddie!"

"No, I don't believe we have met. But if he needs to sign off on it, that's fine with me. Where is Eddie?"

"At his motel, asleep."

"Uh, well Jody, I do have to get on down the road."

"Bill, I promise, this won't take long at all."

One hour later, we were still standing in the parking lot waiting. Jody had called his boss twice by this time, and he kept getting lame excuses from the man. I was beginning to feel frustrated, but kept it inside because I didn't wish to be rude to the customer. After all, this wasn't Jody's fault.

"Jody," I said, "didn't you tell me that you spent the last three days with your boss at a conference?"

"Yes, that's right, down in Columbus."

"Did he see the car there?"

"Oh you bet he did. I was driving him around in it."

"Well then... I'm confused. If he just saw it, why does he need to see it again before I can leave?"

"He wants to see it with you. Together. You know Eddie, he's all about togetherness." I still did not understand why Jody seemed so sure that I knew Eddie and his personality traits. I had never met the man. Jody's cell phone rang, and he talked to Eddie again for a few minutes. Then he hung up and smiled at me. "Good news. Eddie is 40 miles from here and wants us to meet him halfway."

"That is good news."

"So, hop in the car and I'll drive you to the rendezvous point."

"Let's go." And go we did, about one half hour on the Interstate highway towards Canton, Ohio. We stopped in a large hotel parking lot and stood around. For another hour. And then Eddie drove up, talking on the phone in his car. I walked over towards his car, and Jody gently grabbed my arm.

"What are you doing, Bill?"

"Making a beeline for Eddie, so he can sign off on this and I can get going."

"But can't you see, Eddie is on the phone. He hates to be interrupted when he is on his cell phone. I mean he hates it!"

So I waited until he got off the phone. Eddie climbed out of the car and Jody started talking to him. He basically ignored Jody, and walked right over to me. "Hey kid," said Eddie, "whadaya say, whadaya know?"

I smiled. "Not much."

Eddie doubled over laughing much too hard. "Not much! Did you hear that Jody? He said not much."

Jody nodded enthusiastically. "I heard. Eddie, this is Bill the driver."

Eddie got very close to me, face to face. "Hey, what's that?" he asked, pointing at a spot on my shirt just below my chest. When I looked down, Eddie brought his finger up and flicked the end of my nose. "Ha ha, gotcha! I got you good!" His cell phone rang, and Eddie answered it and walked away from me.

Jody looked very happy. "I think he likes you. That's a very good sign."

"I'm glad that he likes me, but that doesn't factor into my job. I just made the mistake of engaging in small talk with him. Next time he's off the phone, I'm just going to hand him the clipboard and ask for him to sign. I'm already running two hours late."

Jody seemed defeated. "I know, and it is all my fault. How can you ever forgive me?"

I shook my head. "There is nothing to forgive. I just have to take care of business here."

Ten minutes later, Eddie hung up the phone. One second later, I was in his space handing him the clipboard. "Hey, hey!" yelled Eddie. "What's this, what's your rush? Explain yourself!"

"I just need for you to sign here and I'll be out of your hair."

"Out of my hair? In case you haven't noticed, I don't have much hair left." I glanced and could see that he was balding and his remaining hair was thinning out. "I love hair. And I love people who love hair, and have hair, and jump rope with hair. Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your long hair!" He cackled with laughter. "No, but seriously, we have to go over this car inch by inch before I let you take it."

I held the paperwork out for him to examine. "As you can see, I've already done a condition report."

Eddie turned to Jody, referring to me. "Jody, where did you find this guy? I love this guy! I want him around me for the rest of my natural life! I want to make babies with this man. Now give me that paperwork, you big lovable so and so." Eddie snatched the paperwork from me and began walking slowly around the car.

I pointed towards an obvious deep scratch. "I mark down things like this one right here..."

"Shhh!" interrupted Eddie. "I'm in the zone."

"He likes zones," offered Jody.

"Shut up, Jody, I'll tell you when its time to speak." Eddie walked over and looked at the scratch I had pointed out, then reviewed the paperwork. "What is this?"

"A scratch, I marked it right there."

Eddie made a silly face and shook his head back and forth. "No, no, that's not a scratch. Watch this." Eddie took a handkerchief out of his pocket and spit generously on it. Then he took the handkerchief and rubbed very hard on the scratch, as if he could make it disappear. "A little bit of spit and elbow grease will take out any scratch or dent. The point is, we're not going to be responsible for any scratches or dents."

I grinned. "Eddie, you will not be held accountable. The point of me writing this stuff down is to protect both you and me. It shows what condition the car was when I picked it up, and what it was when I delivered it."

Eddie furrowed his brow. "But how can I live with this? You wrote that there is a deep dent on the right side front door."

I responded by walking around the car and pointing to the spot. "Right here."

"No, no," said Eddie, shaking his head as he walked up. He spit twice into the handkerchief and began to rub very vigorously. "This will come out in no time, lickety-split. Say Bill, what do you say to a one-legged hitchhiker?"

"Uh, I don't know."

"Hop in. Get it? One leg? Hop? Get it?"

"Yes, I do get it."

"I got a million more, I'm warning you."

"Thanks for the warning."

Eddie began to pretend to pummel me in the stomach with his fists. He didn't ever hit me, just kept pretending to let a barrage of punches fly at me. "I love this guy, Jody."

"I know you do," replied Jody.

"We have to hire him to come work for us."

I was intrigued. "That sounds interesting, tell me more."

Eddie seemed taken aback. "Now listen, you crazy kid. Don't start getting too big for your britches, that's a quality I can do without. Wait to be asked, don't be so pushy, or else you will push others away. See my point?"

Honestly, I did not see his point at all. "Anything else you need to see before we sign the paperwork?"

"Hold your horses, hot rod! You are one anxious Andrew! What we used to call in the Army an eager beaver. Ever heard that one?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I've heard of eager beaver."

"What did you hear about him?" Eddie bent over laughing, and slapped me on the back. Then he winked at me as if we had shared a valuable secret. "Well, I guess I can sign just as soon as you amend the paperwork."

"Amend it?"

"Yes, please, right now."

"How?"

"Just get rid of what you wrote down."

"Can I borrow your handkerchief?"

"Oh, so you're a smart ass? I like that, I like that a lot. You could learn a lot from Bill here, Jody."

Jody stood fully erect. "I would welcome the opportunity anytime."

"Shut up, Jody," said Eddie. "Bill, have you ever been in a towel popping contest?"

"What?"

"You know, in a school gym, a good old fashioned popping towels on your buddies' bare asses towel popping contest."

"No."

"Never? I find that hard to believe. In fact, I think you are just being shrewd and playing your cards close to the chest. Am I right?"

"Nope."

"I would love to get into a towel popping contest with you just to see who is the better man."

There was a pause. "Ready to sign?" I asked.

Eddie giggled. "Bill, you are a freakin' broken record with that stuff. OK, OK, I will sign, is that gonna make you happy?" Eddie signed, and I reached for the paperwork. He yanked it away from me and held it up high. "What do you say? What's the magic word?"

"Please and thank you," I told him.

"Ding, ding, ding, you get bonus points for Thank You, we were only looking for Please." Eddie handed me both copies, and I gave one of them back to him. "Safe travels, Bill. And a friendly professional tip for you, try hard to be more punctual, its bad business to be late."

"I'll remember that."

"See that you do."

"Bye Bill, see you in Texas."

"Shut up, Jody," said Eddie with an air of exasperation.

I learned an important lesson from this experience, one that I will never forget. Spit and a handkerchief can make any problem just go away.

SILENCE IS GOLDEN

I was trying my best to deliver a car to a woman in Wichita, Kansas the other day. I had been calling her, and she kept on switching the delivery time. She finally decided she did not want it at all on the day we agreed upon, but that the next day would be better. And she laid it all out for me when she called my cell phone late in the day.

"You'll just have to come in the morning. Can you make that happen?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am, absolutely," I said. "What time do you want me there, Miss Cooper?"

"8:15 on the button. I need you to be prompt."

"I will be."

"But hey, listen, I have a conference call meeting at 8am, so you can't say a word when you come to my house to drop off the car."

"OK, I won't."

"You don't seem to understand. You cannot utter a single syllable. You must remain completely mum."

"That's not a problem. I will knock on your door--"

"Softly!"

"Yes, very softly. And I will hand you the keys, show you where to sign, and give you a copy of the paperwork. Then I'll be gone like the wind."

"Slow down now, cowboy. Don't be in such a rush, I'd like to come out and look over the car before you just fly away."

"Not a problem."

"But while I'm doing it, you cannot talk. Not a word."

"I'll be quiet as a mouse, Miss Cooper."

"You must! It is imperative."

"Understood."

"Really? Do you? Because it is so important that you do. This is my job we are talking about, I have important business to conduct and can't have an interruption."

"That's fine."

"Please don't be so dismissive, I need a full commitment from you. You must keep your mouth firmly shut. You must not speak."

"I won't."

"No, no, you CAN'T! Do you see what I'm saying?"

"Yes I do. See you at 8:15 tomorrow morn."

The next morning, I got to her house a little early, so I drove on by and parked down the block. When it was 8:14am, I drove back to the house and parked in the driveway. I walked to the front door and knocked very softly. She quickly opened the door, holding her house phone in one hand and a digital clock in the other hand. The clock read 8:17, and she pointed to it and waggled her finger at me. She put the clock down and put a finger up to her lips. I could hear voices coming from the phone, as she had it on Speaker mode.

"Where's the keys?" she whispered. I handed her both sets of keys. She gave me a look like I was the dumbest guy on the face of the earth. I waved her outside, and silently showed her the car. "The car is blue? Why is it blue? I hate the color blue!" I just shrugged. She looked inside. "And the interior is black. Why black? Do you know how miserable that will be on a hot summer day?" She looked at the car and shook her head in disgust, and her voice level raised a couple of notches. "And its a sedan, I wanted a minivan. Would that have been too much to ask? A minivan?" I shrugged.

Now normally, I would find something polite and perhaps comforting to say. But I had been told to keep my mouth shut, and that is what I was doing.

"I'm very unhappy. How do you feel about that?" Once again I shrugged. "Have you nothing to say?" I shook my head no. "Aren't you supposed to please your customer?" I nodded yes. "Why are you not responding to me, you must be the most rude man in the world." I made a gesture of turning a key in a lock on my mouth and tossing away the key. "Well now, don't be ridiculous, no one said you couldn't communicate with me. I insist that you say something!"

"What would you like me to say?"

She seemed surprised. "Oh, you actually spoke. I was beginning to think that you were mute. I will sign for this car, but I want it on record that I'm not a happy customer."

"OK."

She signed the paperwork, and I handed her a copy of it. "You have a way out of here?"

"Yes, it's all arranged."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm walking to the city bus stop nine blocks from here."

"Really? That's a long way. But I'm not giving you a ride."

"I understand."

"I want to be very clear, I can not and will not give you a ride."

"And I don't expect you to."

"You are just a little too good to be true. I'd like you to leave now."

And so I did, very quietly.

TEXAS DOG RANCH CHRISTMAS

Late yesterday afternoon I was headed to Tom and Jenny's ranch in the Hill country of Texas. About 75 miles northwest of Austin. I had a car to drop off in Austin, but the customer wouldn't accept delivery until early next week, and I needed a place to stay. I couldn't think of a better place to stop for Christmas, and Jenny was thrilled when I called to say I was coming. She said she had a big surprise for me. I assumed that meant she had more new dogs, as she takes in all the abandoned dogs that folks drop off there.

When I arrived, I could see I was right. There was an entirely new structure and fenced in yard down the driveway from their home. Many new dogs there. When I pulled up in front of the house, Jenny came running out to greet me. Tom was close behind her, and 8 dogs ran beside them. She and I embraced, and she kissed me on the cheek. "Bill-dog, Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas to you," I said.

"Hey dog," said Tom, as he gave me a manly hug. "Glad you could join us for the holidays, we don't get many out of town guests."

"I can't wait to show you our surprise," Jenny told me with joy. "We have a new addition."

"I already saw it driving in. You have a new building for dogs and a nice yard fenced in so they can run around."

"Built it myself, Bill-dog," Tom said proudly.

"Yeah, I figured so."

Jenny shook her head. "Yes, but that's not the surprise."

"Then what is it?"

"Come on inside," she said.

I followed both of them towards the house. "How many dogs do you have now?"

Tom laughed. "40 at last count."

"42 as of yesterday," Jenny corrected. She led us into the house, and I nearly tripped as all the dogs pushed their way through the door at the same time as me. I stopped short when I saw the surprise, and didn't immediately understand. There were 3 little girls there. "Bill, meet Angie, Lily and Tammi."

"You're watching someone else's kids?"

"Kinda," answered Tom.

"Long term," Jenny explained. "Angie is 7, Lily is 4, and Tammi is 2 years old."

"How did... I'm not sure I understand."

"Their parents got entangled with some Imperial troops," said Tom.

Jenny chuckled. "He's making a STAR WARS reference for your benefit."

"Yeah, I got that. The Police?"

"Yep." Tom shook his head.

Jenny nodded sadly. "The parents got busted for selling large quantities of pot."

"Again," added Tom.

"And for cooking crystal meth."

"Again," added Tom.

"We're their friends, and we didn't even know they were into all this. I mean we knew they puffed pot a bit, but thought they were smart enough not to sell or manufacture stuff." Jenny sighed.

Tom huffed. "You can't do that when you have little kids, Bill. You just can't."

"I understand. So you took the kids in?"

"We had to," said Tom.

"Otherwise they would have become wards of the state, and that would be awful for them." Jenny's eyes became moist.

"The way I saw it, we didn't have any choice," Tom said with real conviction. "They needed a home, and God gave us the privilege of providing one for them."

"What else could we do?" she asked.

I sat down, taking it all in. The girls all wandered out the open door into the yard, and a few of the dogs followed them. "How long will you be keeping them?"

"As long as it takes. As long as they need us," Jenny told me.

"They are now our responsibility, and you probably know by now that we don't take responsibilities lightly," Tom said.

"God sent them our way, and we will take care of them."

I swallowed hard. "I've always been very impressed that you take in all these dogs and take care of them."

"And find homes for most of them. Some take longer than others," she said.

"But this is huge. Taking in these small girls. It's like... well I don't know what it's like."

Lily came back into the house and ran up to me. She held out her hand, which had a fistful of weeds in it. Jenny smiled. "She thinks they're flowers, she wants to give them to you."

I took the weeds gently out of Lily's hands. "Thank you, Lily, that's very sweet." The girl giggled and ran back out the door.

"They are some good kids, Bill. We've grown to love them, and will take care of them. Feed them, clothe them, protect them." Tom nodded. "It's just the right thing to do, you know?"

I don't think I've ever been so filled with the Christmas spirit. And I'm overwhelmed by the love and sacrifice my friends are making on behalf of these kids. If every person who has something in the world could reach out and help those who don't, even a little bit, what a great world this would be.

I slept good last night, and when I got up this morning I so enjoyed watching these little gals open their presents from Santa. Tom and Jenny took good care of them. I took a break to sit at the computer and write this Blog. Now I'm going into the kitchen to see if I can help Jenny prepare the big feast we're having today. I hope that everyone has as warm and wonderful a Christmas as this driving fool.

THE GENERAL

For several years, I was driving around the country under the impression that my boss Riff was the only boss for Drivers of America. That he was the only office, and the only authority. Just over a month ago I discovered there are a few other offices in remote parts of the lower 48 states, including one in the great state of Maine.

After dropping a car off in Bangor for Riff, I made my way to this office that was new to me. I met the man in charge, Monty, a very mild-mannered man who was the polar opposite of the volatile Riff. In a calm and gentle voice, he told me that he was sending me in a car down to south Florida, then he would fly me back up north to get yet another car headed down to south Florida. “Bill,” he said, “Snowbirds are my bread and butter. I will pay you half up front, and half when you get back. The General will be here soon with your car. I have to run to the bank, so please, I beg of you, make yourself comfortable here in my office.”

Monty left and I sat and wondered why Riff couldn’t be a kindly gentleman like this guy. Only a few minutes after Monty left, an old man marched into the office. Marched like a soldier, in perfect lockstep, and in measured rhythm with each step in an exact line. He sat down across from me. “Who are you?” he asked.

“Bill Thomas, nice to meet you.” I stuck my hand out to shake, but it just hung in midair.

The man squinted at me as if he were sizing me up, wondering about my sincerity. “I’m the General, as you probably already know.”

“Which branch of the service were you in?”

The General looked at me as if I was daffy, and chuckled. “Air Force, son. Can’t you read the cap on top of my head?” He pointed at the top of his head, where no cap existed. “See? As you can read, U.S. Air Force. You can read, can’t you son?”

“Yes sir.”

“Yes sir, good, I like that, shows respect. And I have earned that respect, serving my country all these years.”

“As a General.”

“Two stars. Used to be five, went down to one, now back up to two. And I plan to stay there.”

“I see.”

The General looked around the empty office to be sure we were alone, then he leaned in close to me. “Son, do you know any people between the ages of 18 and 34?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Good. I have some important classified information that you need to share with them. Now I can’t tell you the classified part, but I will tell you that we will be going to war in the next six months.”

“We will?”

“Don’t be naïve, of course we will! This time it will be Korea, and it will be a nuclear war. You can’t tell me you didn’t see this coming.”

“Well honestly—"

“I demand honesty! I will accept no less! And I am telling you that the age group I mentioned are going to be drafted. And this won’t be some wishy-washy draft like in the 60’s, this time every God-fearing man, woman and child who is physically able will be sent to fight overseas. And if they run, they will be lined up and executed.”

“Really?”

The General leaned back in his chair and put his fingers to his lips. “I’ve said too much already. Forget everything I just told you.”

“OK.”

The General looked at me sadly and shook his head. “How can you so blithely just dismiss this information? Do you fully grasp the gravity of what I’m telling you? We are going to war. You need to spread the word!”

“Understood.”

“But that’s classified.”

“I get it.”

“There’s more classified information I could give you, but then I’d be court martialed. I can only go so far.”

“I respect that.”

“Don’t be glib. Don’t be disrespectful.”

“I’m being totally respectful.”

“I have my doubts about that. Let me ask you something. Did you see COWBOYS AND ALIENS at the movie theater?”

“Yes I did.”

“Do you think that movie was just a coincidence? The government is trying to mentally prepare us for what is coming.”

I shrugged. “Well, what exactly is coming?”

“That’s classified. But I can tell you this. Do you ever read science fiction?”

“Yes.”

“Well I have news for you, it’s really science fact. We need to be prepared. Very soon we will be at war, Koreans on the left of us, outer space aliens on the right, and Chinese overlords barreling right down our throats. Did you ever think about that?”

“No.”

“Did ya?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so.” The General pulled out a toy walkie talkie from his coat pocket. “Excuse me, I have to take this.” He spoke into the silent walkie talkie. “This is the General, go.” He paused as if he were listening, but no noise came from the gadget in his hand. “Gotcha.” He threw the walkie talkie to the ground and yelled as he leaped towards me. “Incoming!” The General was in midair as he shouted, and landed on me knocking me and my chair to the ground.

I crawled out from under the General. “What was that?” I asked.

“That was me saving your life. And you’re welcome.” We both got to our feet. “I had you pegged as a commie sympathizer, but I guess you’re OK. I like the cut of your jib, sailor. You strike me as a Navy man.”

“I’m a driving man.”

“Tanks and artillery, eh? Well, I wouldn’t be too proud about it, pride has been the downfall of many a soldier. Are you driving this car I picked up down to Florida?”

“Yes I am.”

He handed me the keys. “Well good luck and Godspeed. And for heaven’s sake, please watch out for the minefields down in North Carolina. I have an appointment with the Joint Chiefs of Staff.” The General ducked and rolled on his way out of the office. He was very agile for a man of his age.

When Monty returned and paid me, I got on the road and began my drive to Florida. And I began to ponder, just how many of “Bill’s people” are there in the USA? Much less the whole world?

WHO CRIED AT OLD YELLER?

There was a scene in one of my favorite movies, STRIPES, where Bill Murray asks his platoon who cried when Old Yeller died. No one will admit to it, but Bill presses them until they all raise their hands.

I still remember seeing OLD YELLER when I was a kid. I cried my eyes out when the boy had to shoot his dog. It seemed so unfair and horribly wrong. Couldn't the vet fix him up, I wondered? That movie was just one of the building blocks that was at the very foundation of my love for dogs.

A couple of weeks ago, I stopped off and saw my friends Tom and Jenny Forrest at their ranch in Texas. Jenny takes in any dogs that have been lost or abandoned and does her best to find homes for them. And she is very good at it, she has a high success rate.

When I arrived at the ranch, she ran out the door followed by a big bunch of dogs (as usual) and threw her arms around me. I love hugs, and she is a great hugger. But when I was ready to let go, she pulled me in tighter. I was touched and felt so loved. "How you doing, Bill-doggie."

"Is that my new nickname?"

"I've been calling you that for a while, you just haven't been paying attention."

"Oh, is that it?"

"Yeah, that's it. Tom caught a bunch of catfish, I am cooking them up for dinner tonight. It's going to be a feast."

"Cool."

"You look like you've lost a few pounds."

"Maybe just a few, but that's all."

"Come on inside and tell me all your latest stories from the road."

We went in, and I could not find a place to sit down. They have plenty of chairs and two couches, but all of the dogs had laid claim on every one of them. "So how many dogs do you have now?"

"20 in the house, 15 outside in the pens. And they are a handful."

"But you love it."

"I do. How can I not?"

"You have such a big heart."

"So do you. That's why I love you."

The front door burst open and Tom rushed in. "Jenny, where's my shotgun."

"What? Why do you need your shotgun?"

Tom was hurrying around looking in the closets, the pantry, anywhere and everywhere. "It's those neighbors, they're at it again. They are trying to take my business away."

Jenny stood in Tom's path and grabbed him by the arms. "Hey! Hey! Look at me. Calm the hell down! This isn't the way."

"No more pacifism, its time to get down to business."

"Tom, listen to me! You have to chill out. Let me roll us a doobie and we'll sit and figure out a strategy." Tom seemed to calm down slightly. "You haven't even said hello to Bill yet."

Tom seemed to notice me for the first time. "Oh, hey there Bill. I'm sorry, I'm just so pissed off right now I can't see straight."

"I can see that. Anything I can do?"

"Will you go shoot them for me?"

Jenny laughed. "You don't want to shoot anyone."

Tom laughed back. "Well, I really would like to, but we both know I'm not gonna."

We sat and talked, and I told them a few tales of my adventures which seemed to effectively distract Tom. Before long, Jenny made supper, and it was purely delicious. I've heard that fish is brain food. I can only say for sure that its GOOD food.

They have a little room upstairs where I stay when I visit. It's kind of a loft, separated from their living quarters, and with its own entrance. I was up there after supper mapping out my trip for the next day, when Jenny walked in with a small dog in her arms. "Hey Bill-doggie, you got a minute."

"Of course."

"Got someone I want you to meet. This is Mr. Tom Hanks."

"Like the movie star?"

"Yes, but I think the actor was named after this little guy."

"I see."

"He's about a year old, and he's an adventurer. He's decided he wants to hit the road, and asked me if he could be yours." She put Tom Hanks into my lap. The little pooch began to lick my face and my heart began to melt. I instantly fell in love with this dog.

"I would love nothing more than to have a dog."

"Well that's good, because now you have one. I've been looking for the perfect dog for you, and now I've found him. Bill Thomas and Tom Hanks, riding around the USA together, getting into all kinds of adventures.

My heart sunk. Because as much as I wanted this dog, I knew it could never work. "Jenny, I love you so much for offering me."

"Nope, this isn't an offer, it's a done deal. He's yours and you are his. Period, end of story."

I let out a long sigh. "I can't."

"Why? You are all alone on the road. Now you'd have a co-pilot and a constant companion. And no one will give you the kind of unconditional love that this little guy will."

"No doubt."

"Well then, I'd say you've run out of excuses."

"The thing is, when I'm in between cars to drive, I'm running around on planes, trains, and rental automobiles. I couldn't take a dog along. It wouldn't be fair to him even if I could." Tom Hanks whimpered and licked my face. I felt a huge lump in my throat.

Jenny looked sad, but said that she understood. "One of these days, we're going to get you off the road for good. And then you will have a dog."

"Or two."

"Or three."

"You got it, sister."

"Amen, brother." Jenny leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

The next day as I drove off from the ranch, I felt that tug at my heart like when I first saw OLD YELLER. My situation makes it next to impossible to have a dog right now. But there are a whole lot of them that need homes, so if you would like a new best friend, my friend Jenny Forrest will be happy to help you out.

JUST TEXT ME

I took a car to deliver to a woman in Mobile, Alabama this week. She had a rental car which she needed to drop off, so she instructed me to meet her at the rental agency rather than at her home. I was more than glad to do what was necessary to meet her needs.

The night before the delivery, she called me to be sure I would be there. "Hello Bill, this is Patty. Now I need you there at 8am sharp."

"That's no problem," I told her. "I have to catch a city bus that goes by at 8:30 and the next one doesn't come for several hours, so I'll be there waiting for you."

"I need you to be there at 8."

"Yes ma'am, I'll be there at 7:55."

"Not 7:55, I want you there at 8 sharp."

This had a familiar ring, a customer who is a stickler. "No worries, I'll be there right on time."

"8 sharp."

"Yes, absolutely."

The next morning I got up early and drove over to the rental car agency. I was an hour early, so I found a Diner nearby and went in for breakfast. A healthy bowl of oatmeal, which I find to be a great way to start my day.

I was standing outside at 7:50 looking for her to arrive. 8am sharp came and went. By 8:20 I was beginning to worry, so I called her cell phone.

"Yes, what is it?" she answered.

"Hi, it's Bill Thomas, your friendly driver. Wondering if you were still coming."

"I already told you I was going to be a half hour late."

"Last time we spoke, you said you'd be here at 8 sharp."

"That was last night, I sent you a text this morning very early telling you 8:30."

"I don't get texts."

"You... you don't get texts? How can you not get texts?"

"I'm here waiting for you, still hoping to catch that bus that comes by at 8:30am."

"Well, that can't be my problem. I am a busy working woman, and I don't have time for your nonsense. I'll be there soon." She abruptly hung up.

I stood with my fingers tightly crossed that she would show up before the bus did. When a car pulled into the lot with a woman driving, I could only hope it was Patty. I had all of the paperwork ready for her to sign so I could quickly exit stage right. Then I saw the bus go by, and I held out my hands towards it in sad acceptance.

"Looks like you missed your bus," Patty said as she climbed out of her car.

"I guess so," I said, and offered her the keys to her new car.

"I didn't understand how you could have missed the message I texted to you this morning."

"My phone isn't set up to get texts."

"How can that possibly be? How can anyone not get texts?"

"It's an old phone."

"But how do you survive without texting? For that matter, how could anyone in the modern world today go without texting? That's unthinkable!"

"My phone plan doesn't include texting."

"But how do you get text messages?"

"I don't."

"What if someone needs to reach you?"

"They can call me."

"What if they don't want to call you, no one calls anymore, everyone texts."

"Not me."

"I can't begin to fathom that. That is such an antiquated notion."

"I do OK."

"You must be some kind of dinosaur, using a phone. I mean that is as old fashioned as a Model-T car. You have to join the world the rest of us live in."

"I have the paperwork for your car here, if you can just sign for it."

She looked at the Toyota Camry I had driven. "Is it a piece of crap?"

"What? No, not at all, it's a very nice car, and in great shape."

"If you say so, but I'd rather have a Lexxus."

"This is the car they gave me to bring you."

She shook her head as she signed the papers. "I still can't get over you not texting. You're not pulling my leg, are you?"

"Nope. No texting."

"But that is so pathetic. How do you live with yourself?"

"It's fine, I promise you."

"It can't be fine. What if you need to reach someone?"

"I call them."

"What if they don't answer the phone?"

"I leave a message."

"What if they don't like to check messages?"

"Well, that's on them. At that point, I've done my due dilligence, and if they don't like to answer their phone or check their messages, I can't be responsible."

"Or, you could just learn to text like a normal human being. I literally could not survive without texting. If I'm running late driving somewhere, I can text them to say I'm late."

"You text while you drive?" I asked.

"Sure, everyone does. Don't you dare judge me."

I nodded, took the paperwork, picked up my bag, and began the very long walk to the train station. "Have a nice day," I called out.

"You need to get texting capability right away!" she shouted.

The next day, I was delivering a car in Port Charlotte, Florida. A teenage girl slammed her car into mine, ripping the entire front end of my car off, and I had to be taken to the hospital. She was texting as she drove.

HAPPY EASTER SUNDAY

I was driving a big cargo van up to Cheyenne, Wyoming on Easter Sunday. The vehicle was in pretty bad shape, beat up and rusted out. The man who gave me the keys to it in Tucson said to never let it get below 1/4 of a tank, because the needle would just drop from 1/4 to EMPTY in a flash, and you'd be stalled out right then and there. The man also explained that the radio was broken, but that the cassette player worked. But there was tape jammed in the machine, and so it was the only thing I'd be able to listen to.

As I started my 995 mile trip, I turned on the cassette hoping it might be a George Strait tape. No such luck. It was a singer named Jimmy Buffett, who I've heard of but never listened to much. My old friend Smokey hates Buffett with a passion, which always made me curious. I listened to songs about Cheeseburgers in Paradise, Fins to the left and Fins to the right, when a Volcano is gonna blow, and a mystical place called Margaritaville. It wasn't half bad, I liked the sunny disposition of the songs and the singer.

I felt sort of sad that I had no one to spend Easter with. No one to have a big Easter dinner with, big portions of ham and beans and potato salad just like when I was a kid. I was also getting down with thoughts of helping my fellow man, but feeling like I'm alone in doing so. I know when we do a kindness for someone else it's not for reward, but I'd just like to think there are other folks out there in the world who also wish to help simply because its the right thing to do. Oh well.

It was late in the afternoon, and I was listening to the tape for maybe the tenth time in a row. I suddenly noticed that the fuel gauge was at 1/4, and wondered how it got there so quick without me noticing. I started to pray for a gas station to come up soon, as I was in a very rural stretch of road just north of Denver. I saw a sign that said "GAS - 5 MILES AHEAD". I sighed with relief, and then the gas needle dropped down to "E". "No, no, please, I'm so close," I pleaded to the van. Moments later, the van sputtered and came to a dead stop. There were no two ways about it, I was stuck.

I climbed out of the van and knew that the only solution was to walk five miles to the gas station, buy a small container for gas, and walk back to pour it in. I locked up the van and walked about twenty steps before the rain started coming down hard. Then I heard a motor headed my way. Not from the highway, which was nearly deserted, but from a field off the highway. It was an ATV carrying a Farmer, and he was carrying something in his lap. As they drew closer, I could see it was a little girl in his lap, and they were really flying across the field.

I waved as they got near, and the Farmer stopped at the barbed wire fence. "Howdy," he shouted at me.

"Hi," I said as I walked toward the fence.

"You got car trouble?"

"Out of gas. This van has a defective fuel gauge."

"It's always something, isn't it? They get you one way or the other."

"How far to the nearest gas station? Sign says five miles."

"Don't worry about it, I'll help you out. Meet me down at the end of the fence." He took off on the ATV, and I ran along my side of the fence until I reached the end of it. At that point, there were some steps, making it fairly easy to climb over. "I thought it would be easier for you to get over down here."

"You're right about that, thanks."

"Hop on the back there and hang on." The Farmer indicated a wide board on the back of the ATV, and I sat on it facing backwards. He took off, and we had a relatively wild ride across the fields with the rain still coming down hard. There were numerous bumps that made me go flying up, but my hands had a death grip on the board so I wasn't going too far.

When he pulled up to the farmhouse where he lived, we slowed down a bit. He drove around back, and there was a big red barn. Another ATV came driving out of the barn, with a boy driving it that could not have been more than seven. The girl who had been riding with us looked to be four or five, I assumed they were his children. It was sort of amazing, kind of wholesome, and even a little bizarre to see such a small boy so expertly piloting this big ATV. With a rifle propped up next to him.

"Shelly, go get this man a mug of your mother's hot coffee from the kitchen," the Farmer said to the little girl.

"That's not necessary," I said, but Shelly was gone.

"Ain't necessary, but its the right thing to do. You're our guest." He turned his attention to the boy. "Jimmy, did you check out the west field?"

"Yes sir. I saw that old wolf slinking around out there."

"What'd you do?"

"I shot him dead, Daddy!"

"That's my boy!"

"I'm gonna go check the back nine now." Jimmy revved up his ATV and took off.

The Farmer patted me on the back. "Let's get you some gas, pardner."

"Your boy sure does drive that ATV like a pro."

"That's my Jimmy, I'm awful proud of him. He's growing into a fine young man."

"I can see that." The Farmer went into the barn and I stood in the doorway to avoid the rain. After a few minutes, Shelly came out and handed me a big thermos and a brown paper bag stuffed with something. "Thank you very much," I said, and she giggled and ran off.

"That's my girl, Shelly," the Farmer said as he came out of the barn with a ten gallon container of gas.

"I think she brought me more than a mug of coffee."

The Farmer smiled. "Well sure. I imagine that Sally, she's my wife, she probably packed you a couple of ham sandwiches and a big hunk of her pound cake."

I was very much taken aback. "That's incredibly generous."

The Farmer shook his head. "Nothing to it. Just trying to be friendly."

"Extremely friendly, and I am so grateful."

The Farmer walked over to his "dualie" pickup truck and I followed. "You might want to hold those thank yous til we see if we can get that van of yours started. We'll take my truck back over." He put the gas container in the bed of the truck, then we climbed in the cab and took off.

When we got back to the fence, I hopped out and started to climb over the barbed wire. The Farmer laughed and said, "What you trying to do there, buddy?"

"Trying to get back to my van."

"You're gonna get your clothes and yourself all torn up there. Step back." The Farmer put the palm of his right hand on one of the fence posts, then in one swift motion threw his legs and himself over the fence, landing smoothly on the other side. "Now hand me that gas container."

"Sure," I said, lifting it over the fence, still impressed by the agility it took to hop over that fence.

"Why don't you go ahead and drive my truck down to the end of the fence. I'll try to get your van started then meet you down there."

I did as I was told, and watched from a distance as the Farmer poured the gas into the van, then got behind the wheel and started it. The van came rolling slowly down the shoulder of the highway. I reached into my wallet and pulled out a $20 and a $10, which should cover the gas. Though it didn't seem nearly enough to compensate the Farmer for his time and the inconvenience.

As I climbed the steps over the fence, the Farmer walked up and said, "You're good to go, pardner. You better stop at the next exit and fill up."

"I sure will."

"I left the van on, the engine is idling."

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

"Don't worry about it, glad I could help out."

I handed him the $30. "Hope this will cover it."

The Farmer held up his hands. "No sir, I don't want your money."

"After all you did for me, I at least have to pay you back for the gas."

"No you don't. But I'll tell you what you can do. Sometime when you see someone in trouble, stop and give them a hand."

I felt a warmth rush through my entire body. "I will. You can count on it. Listen, I just have to tell you, I try to be good and kind to everyone I meet. But... well, the fact is, I'm not used to getting it back in return. It's nice."

"It is, isn't it? Believe me when I tell you, it was my pleasure."

I stuck my hand out to shake. "By the way, my name is Bill."

The Farmer smiled and shook my hand. "Well what do you know? My name is Bill, too."

This renewed my faith in the golden rule. There really is goodness and kindness in the world. And I will keep on driving and looking for it. Helping others where I can, and maybe receiving help sometimes in return -- just when you least expect it.