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.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
TALKING TO THE COMPUTER
I delivered a car to Maryland, and then hopped on a plane and flew to Texas for my next pick up. I was in an aisle seat on the plane, and found myself in the middle of a family. The two people on my side of the row were related to the folks in the seats across the aisle. I say two people, but it was really three in my row if you count the toddler.
And I do.
Once we were in the air, what appeared to be the Grandparents across the aisle were leaning over and waving and cooing at the toddler, and kept asking his parents to pass him over. Which meant passing him over me. No problem, except that each time they passed the kid, he'd either whack me with his hand in the face or kick me with his tiny shoes. Surprising how much punch can be delivered by such little feet. The Grandparents would play with him til he cried, then pass him back to Mom and Dad. Once the little tyke was calm again, the old folks would hold out their arms. The child must have been passed back and forth at least ten times during the flight.
I was really glad to get off that flight, I wanted a nap but every time I'd start to nod off a foot would kick me in the head. Knowing that I had time to kill before picking up the next car, I found a little Coffee Cafe called COFFEE, TEA, OR ME. Odd name, but they had free Wifi and so I decided to drop in. Got a cup of green tea and opened up my laptop. I noticed that there were two tables right in front of me that had desktop style computers, with a sign that stated "15 MINUTE LIMIT PER CUSTOMER."
It began to rain outside as I checked my email. I hoped it would stop fairly soon, as I had to catch several buses to get where I was going. A woman walked in humming loudly, then broke into song. I didn't recognize the tune or the lyrics, but I like it when someone is happy. She sat down at one of the computers and spoke to it. "Now are you going to work for me today? I'm counting on you, I have some very important papers I need to print. Do you understand me? Very important. Oh yes, oh yes." She went about setting up her materials and started to type.
A waitress walked up to her and smiled. "What can I get for you?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, juice?"
"What I'd like is some privacy and some peace and quiet. Tell me, do you think that's too much for me to ask? Really, I would like your opinion."
"Uh, no ma'am, you're welcome to use our computer."
"Oh good, I have your blessing. Well then, run along now." When the waitress left, the woman leaned down close to the computer. "I thought she'd never leave. The nerve of some people. I just want you and me to be here alone and get our work done. You can understand, right? Right? Hello, I'm speaking to you, the courtesy of a response would be much appreciated."
The computer said nothing. It just sat quietly. The woman got to work, but she peppered her task with comments. "You really do run slow, you know." "I've worked on much more efficient operating systems than yours." "I don't mean to insult you, but you are most definitely substandard."
I looked out the window and watched the rain. I found myself drifting off into a daydream, and then suddenly was brought back to reality by the woman, who raised her voice. "What are you looking at?" she asked me with suspicion.
"Just watching the rain," I told her.
"You were watching me doing my personal business. Don't try to deny it."
"Trust me, I was watching the rain and wondering when it would stop."
"How can I trust you, I don't even know you. And I don't buy that story for one minute. You were sticking your fat nose into my business, and I want you to know that I don't appreciate it. Keep your eyes to yourself." She got back to her work, and I stared at my computer screen. Then I overheard her say to her computer, "Can you believe the nerve of that man? What kind of world do we live in where a mean, nasty man would try to spy on you. Will you tell me that? I'm flabbergasted." Then she pulled a sandwich and a can of Coke out of her purse.
Soon I was so focused on my work that I'd pretty much forgotten the lady sitting in front of me. But then the printer wouldn't work, and she began to exclaim "What is wrong with you, Mr. Printer? I need you to work now, this is a most important matter. Please just do your job, that's all that I ask."
The woman raised her voice and actually began to yell at the printer. The waitress came over and asked, "What's the problem, ma'am?"
"Go away, this is between me and the printer."
"Maybe I can help you."
"Oh, I seriously doubt that."
"Our printer hasn't been working too well lately," the waitress offered, most politely.
"Well I am outraged! I come in here and spend my money, and you don't even have a working computer? Why did I come? Why am I here?"
The waitress shrugged and walked away. The woman got up in a huff and grabbed her things to leave. I noticed that her umbrella was still hanging on the back of the chair, so I grabbed it and ran to the door to hand it to her.
"I think you forgot this," I said.
"What? What's this?"
"I believe it's your umbrella, it was hanging on the back of your chair."
The woman looked as if she were about to cry. "Oh my goodness. It is mine. Oh sir, you are a true gentleman. Chivalry is not dead, well, not yet anyway. Thank you so much." As I stepped away, I heard her speaking to the umbrella. "I almost left you in there. Then I would have gotten wet, and you would have been abandoned. An orphan, as it were."
I packed up my computer, grabbed my bag, and started out the door opening my own umbrella. It was going to be a very wet drive tonight.
And I do.
Once we were in the air, what appeared to be the Grandparents across the aisle were leaning over and waving and cooing at the toddler, and kept asking his parents to pass him over. Which meant passing him over me. No problem, except that each time they passed the kid, he'd either whack me with his hand in the face or kick me with his tiny shoes. Surprising how much punch can be delivered by such little feet. The Grandparents would play with him til he cried, then pass him back to Mom and Dad. Once the little tyke was calm again, the old folks would hold out their arms. The child must have been passed back and forth at least ten times during the flight.
I was really glad to get off that flight, I wanted a nap but every time I'd start to nod off a foot would kick me in the head. Knowing that I had time to kill before picking up the next car, I found a little Coffee Cafe called COFFEE, TEA, OR ME. Odd name, but they had free Wifi and so I decided to drop in. Got a cup of green tea and opened up my laptop. I noticed that there were two tables right in front of me that had desktop style computers, with a sign that stated "15 MINUTE LIMIT PER CUSTOMER."
It began to rain outside as I checked my email. I hoped it would stop fairly soon, as I had to catch several buses to get where I was going. A woman walked in humming loudly, then broke into song. I didn't recognize the tune or the lyrics, but I like it when someone is happy. She sat down at one of the computers and spoke to it. "Now are you going to work for me today? I'm counting on you, I have some very important papers I need to print. Do you understand me? Very important. Oh yes, oh yes." She went about setting up her materials and started to type.
A waitress walked up to her and smiled. "What can I get for you?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, juice?"
"What I'd like is some privacy and some peace and quiet. Tell me, do you think that's too much for me to ask? Really, I would like your opinion."
"Uh, no ma'am, you're welcome to use our computer."
"Oh good, I have your blessing. Well then, run along now." When the waitress left, the woman leaned down close to the computer. "I thought she'd never leave. The nerve of some people. I just want you and me to be here alone and get our work done. You can understand, right? Right? Hello, I'm speaking to you, the courtesy of a response would be much appreciated."
The computer said nothing. It just sat quietly. The woman got to work, but she peppered her task with comments. "You really do run slow, you know." "I've worked on much more efficient operating systems than yours." "I don't mean to insult you, but you are most definitely substandard."
I looked out the window and watched the rain. I found myself drifting off into a daydream, and then suddenly was brought back to reality by the woman, who raised her voice. "What are you looking at?" she asked me with suspicion.
"Just watching the rain," I told her.
"You were watching me doing my personal business. Don't try to deny it."
"Trust me, I was watching the rain and wondering when it would stop."
"How can I trust you, I don't even know you. And I don't buy that story for one minute. You were sticking your fat nose into my business, and I want you to know that I don't appreciate it. Keep your eyes to yourself." She got back to her work, and I stared at my computer screen. Then I overheard her say to her computer, "Can you believe the nerve of that man? What kind of world do we live in where a mean, nasty man would try to spy on you. Will you tell me that? I'm flabbergasted." Then she pulled a sandwich and a can of Coke out of her purse.
Soon I was so focused on my work that I'd pretty much forgotten the lady sitting in front of me. But then the printer wouldn't work, and she began to exclaim "What is wrong with you, Mr. Printer? I need you to work now, this is a most important matter. Please just do your job, that's all that I ask."
The woman raised her voice and actually began to yell at the printer. The waitress came over and asked, "What's the problem, ma'am?"
"Go away, this is between me and the printer."
"Maybe I can help you."
"Oh, I seriously doubt that."
"Our printer hasn't been working too well lately," the waitress offered, most politely.
"Well I am outraged! I come in here and spend my money, and you don't even have a working computer? Why did I come? Why am I here?"
The waitress shrugged and walked away. The woman got up in a huff and grabbed her things to leave. I noticed that her umbrella was still hanging on the back of the chair, so I grabbed it and ran to the door to hand it to her.
"I think you forgot this," I said.
"What? What's this?"
"I believe it's your umbrella, it was hanging on the back of your chair."
The woman looked as if she were about to cry. "Oh my goodness. It is mine. Oh sir, you are a true gentleman. Chivalry is not dead, well, not yet anyway. Thank you so much." As I stepped away, I heard her speaking to the umbrella. "I almost left you in there. Then I would have gotten wet, and you would have been abandoned. An orphan, as it were."
I packed up my computer, grabbed my bag, and started out the door opening my own umbrella. It was going to be a very wet drive tonight.
Monday, April 11, 2011
PERRY COMO'S STATUE
On my way to deliver a car to Washington, PA, I got a call from the man I was delivering to.
"Where in God's creation are you?" Mr. Dexter asked me.
"Columbia, South Carolina at the moment."
"There's no reason to be a smart ass."
This stumped me. "Sir, I wasn't trying to be a--"
"Enough chit-chat, just tell me when I'm gonna get my freakin' car, would you?"
"Tomorrow morning, just as we'd planned."
"That was your plan, not mine. I simply agreed to it. And then what?"
I cleared my throat. "Well, then I catch a plane to Florida so I can pick up another car."
"And I suppose you want me to take you to the airport?"
"You don't have to, but if you are offering I'll graciously accept."
"OK, OK, just call me in the morning before you arrive at my house. I like to walk around the house buck naked, so it would be nice to have some warning. Just so I can put on some pants."
"You got it."
"Do me a favor, please don't crash and wreck my car on the drive up here. I need my car."
"Everything will be fine, Mr. Dexter."
"It better be." He hung up.
I drove north through North Carolina, Virginia, West Virginia, and finally into Pennsylvania. There were a lot of very winding roads, and long tunnels that went right through the middle of mountains. Very cool.
I arrived late at my motel in Washington, and all I wanted to do was go to sleep. I set both of my portable alarm clocks, just to be certain that I woke up on time the next morning.
At sunrise, I was up and taking a quick shower. I checked out of the motel and drove the five miles to the man's home, calling him as I promised along the way. It kept sending me to his voicemail. I arrived at the house and sat in the driveway for 30 minutes. Finally, he called me back.
"Is this Bill Thomas?" he asked. "Bill the driver?"
"Yes sir, I'm right in front of your house."
"Did I or did I not instruct you to call me before you arrived?"
"I've been calling, I got no answer."
"It hardly matters, since I'm not there. I left early to do some business over in Canonsburg. Bring the car to me here, now."
"Uh, OK, how do I get to Canonsburg?"
"You're the driving expert. You're the navigational genius, you figure it out."
"Can I have the address, please?"
Mr. Dexter let out a long, heavy sigh. "You are a whole lot of trouble." He gave me the address and I jotted it down. Then I stopped at a Truck stop to get directions. Someone always knows at the Truck stop.
45 minutes later, I arrived at the address in Canonsburg. Mr. Dexter was outside looking at his watch and tapping his foot. "Took you long enough."
"I got here as quickly as I could."
"I'm not interested in your excuses, give me the car and let's be done with all this nonsense." He signed the paperwork and then said, "You're on your own for getting to the airport. I have more important things to do than chauffeur you all over the greater Pittsburgh area. Good luck." With that, he was gone.
I always have a back-up plan for how to get out of a place once I've dropped off a car. Always a Plan A and a Plan B. But I made those plans in accordance with my instructions to deliver in Washington, not Canonsburg. Luckily, a driving fool like me is very resourceful and quick on my feet. I found my way to City Hall, and there I got information about where to catch a Regional bus which would take me into downtown Pittsburgh. From there, a train ride and a city bus would get me to the airport.
While in City Hall, I also learned that Canonsburg is the birthplace of Perry Como and Bobby Vinton. And that Perry Como worked at a Barbershop in town before he became famous. There was a "Blue Velvet" teddy bear encased in glass inside City Hall, and a life size statue of Perry Como out front. I supposed I owe Mr. Dexter a big thank you for bringing me to Canonsburg. These are the little joys in life that make travels fun and full of discovery for a driving fool.
"Where in God's creation are you?" Mr. Dexter asked me.
"Columbia, South Carolina at the moment."
"There's no reason to be a smart ass."
This stumped me. "Sir, I wasn't trying to be a--"
"Enough chit-chat, just tell me when I'm gonna get my freakin' car, would you?"
"Tomorrow morning, just as we'd planned."
"That was your plan, not mine. I simply agreed to it. And then what?"
I cleared my throat. "Well, then I catch a plane to Florida so I can pick up another car."
"And I suppose you want me to take you to the airport?"
"You don't have to, but if you are offering I'll graciously accept."
"OK, OK, just call me in the morning before you arrive at my house. I like to walk around the house buck naked, so it would be nice to have some warning. Just so I can put on some pants."
"You got it."
"Do me a favor, please don't crash and wreck my car on the drive up here. I need my car."
"Everything will be fine, Mr. Dexter."
"It better be." He hung up.
I drove north through North Carolina, Virginia, West Virginia, and finally into Pennsylvania. There were a lot of very winding roads, and long tunnels that went right through the middle of mountains. Very cool.
I arrived late at my motel in Washington, and all I wanted to do was go to sleep. I set both of my portable alarm clocks, just to be certain that I woke up on time the next morning.
At sunrise, I was up and taking a quick shower. I checked out of the motel and drove the five miles to the man's home, calling him as I promised along the way. It kept sending me to his voicemail. I arrived at the house and sat in the driveway for 30 minutes. Finally, he called me back.
"Is this Bill Thomas?" he asked. "Bill the driver?"
"Yes sir, I'm right in front of your house."
"Did I or did I not instruct you to call me before you arrived?"
"I've been calling, I got no answer."
"It hardly matters, since I'm not there. I left early to do some business over in Canonsburg. Bring the car to me here, now."
"Uh, OK, how do I get to Canonsburg?"
"You're the driving expert. You're the navigational genius, you figure it out."
"Can I have the address, please?"
Mr. Dexter let out a long, heavy sigh. "You are a whole lot of trouble." He gave me the address and I jotted it down. Then I stopped at a Truck stop to get directions. Someone always knows at the Truck stop.
45 minutes later, I arrived at the address in Canonsburg. Mr. Dexter was outside looking at his watch and tapping his foot. "Took you long enough."
"I got here as quickly as I could."
"I'm not interested in your excuses, give me the car and let's be done with all this nonsense." He signed the paperwork and then said, "You're on your own for getting to the airport. I have more important things to do than chauffeur you all over the greater Pittsburgh area. Good luck." With that, he was gone.
I always have a back-up plan for how to get out of a place once I've dropped off a car. Always a Plan A and a Plan B. But I made those plans in accordance with my instructions to deliver in Washington, not Canonsburg. Luckily, a driving fool like me is very resourceful and quick on my feet. I found my way to City Hall, and there I got information about where to catch a Regional bus which would take me into downtown Pittsburgh. From there, a train ride and a city bus would get me to the airport.
While in City Hall, I also learned that Canonsburg is the birthplace of Perry Como and Bobby Vinton. And that Perry Como worked at a Barbershop in town before he became famous. There was a "Blue Velvet" teddy bear encased in glass inside City Hall, and a life size statue of Perry Como out front. I supposed I owe Mr. Dexter a big thank you for bringing me to Canonsburg. These are the little joys in life that make travels fun and full of discovery for a driving fool.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
FUN AT A THEME PARK
I had just finished a week of shuttling ambulances from Miami to the Jacksonville port in Florida. We had to wear a yellow safety vest at the port, and I kept forgetting to take mine off at the end of the day.
On Friday, I left Jacksonville in a rental car and drove to Orlando in a terrible rainstorm. Whipping wind and blinding rain made it a slow drive, and I got a headache out of the bargain. I was going to meet an old friend who works at Walt Disney World for dinner, but since I arrived hours before she got off work, I decided to go see a movie at Pleasure Island. They have a huge AMC 24-plex theater right there on Disney property, and I was debating what I wanted to see.
I walked purposefully through Downtown Disney under my umbrella, when a very haughty woman called to me, "Young man, young man. I need you to take me to where I catch the bus back to my hotel."
I shrugged and kept on walking. "Sorry, I can't help you."
The woman hurried over and stood in my path. "I beg your pardon, but you can at least tell me where the bus is."
"I have no idea. Have a nice day."
But she would not get out of my way. And her attitude went quickly from stuck up to hostile. "You will tell me what I want to know right away because you are required to."
"Listen ma'am, I do not have the information you require, and I'm running late, so--"
"How dare you! You cannot speak to me that way."
"Gotta go."
She held her own umbrella out to block my passage. "I don't like your sass. You are a worthless little man and barely worth my time. You are moronic and incompetent, and I just don't like anything about you. I am going to report you."
"Go ahead."
"I mean it. I intend to report that you were rude, impudent and sarcastic."
"Good, I encourage you to do so."
"What is your name?"
"I'm not telling."
"You absolutely must give me your name. I know the Disney rules, and as an employee you have to comply."
"I don't work here."
"Don't be an idiot, of course you do."
"Nope, I don't."
"But you're wearing the yellow vest, that means you're an employee."
I looked down at the vest. "I forgot to take off the vest, but I don't work here."
"Aha, so you are an off-duty employee. But the rules still apply to you. Give me your name right this minute."
"No thank you." And with that, I side-stepped around her and hurried on my way. This made her absolutely furious.
"Come back here. I'm not through with you. Oooo, you are in so much trouble."
My first job was working in a Theme park, and I enjoyed serving people and making them smile all day. But I also had to take a lot of crap from haughty, mean-spirited, nasty people who would look down their nose at me. As an "ex-employee", I refuse to subject myself to such nonsense. As I walked away from this bitchy woman, I smiled contentedly.
On Friday, I left Jacksonville in a rental car and drove to Orlando in a terrible rainstorm. Whipping wind and blinding rain made it a slow drive, and I got a headache out of the bargain. I was going to meet an old friend who works at Walt Disney World for dinner, but since I arrived hours before she got off work, I decided to go see a movie at Pleasure Island. They have a huge AMC 24-plex theater right there on Disney property, and I was debating what I wanted to see.
I walked purposefully through Downtown Disney under my umbrella, when a very haughty woman called to me, "Young man, young man. I need you to take me to where I catch the bus back to my hotel."
I shrugged and kept on walking. "Sorry, I can't help you."
The woman hurried over and stood in my path. "I beg your pardon, but you can at least tell me where the bus is."
"I have no idea. Have a nice day."
But she would not get out of my way. And her attitude went quickly from stuck up to hostile. "You will tell me what I want to know right away because you are required to."
"Listen ma'am, I do not have the information you require, and I'm running late, so--"
"How dare you! You cannot speak to me that way."
"Gotta go."
She held her own umbrella out to block my passage. "I don't like your sass. You are a worthless little man and barely worth my time. You are moronic and incompetent, and I just don't like anything about you. I am going to report you."
"Go ahead."
"I mean it. I intend to report that you were rude, impudent and sarcastic."
"Good, I encourage you to do so."
"What is your name?"
"I'm not telling."
"You absolutely must give me your name. I know the Disney rules, and as an employee you have to comply."
"I don't work here."
"Don't be an idiot, of course you do."
"Nope, I don't."
"But you're wearing the yellow vest, that means you're an employee."
I looked down at the vest. "I forgot to take off the vest, but I don't work here."
"Aha, so you are an off-duty employee. But the rules still apply to you. Give me your name right this minute."
"No thank you." And with that, I side-stepped around her and hurried on my way. This made her absolutely furious.
"Come back here. I'm not through with you. Oooo, you are in so much trouble."
My first job was working in a Theme park, and I enjoyed serving people and making them smile all day. But I also had to take a lot of crap from haughty, mean-spirited, nasty people who would look down their nose at me. As an "ex-employee", I refuse to subject myself to such nonsense. As I walked away from this bitchy woman, I smiled contentedly.
Monday, March 21, 2011
A DARK CLOUD OVERHEAD
Have you ever had one of those days? When it just seems like nothing is going right for you?
I had just delivered a car near Broken Arrow, OK. When I say near, I mean it was outside the city limits in a fairly rural area. The customer was not a bit accommodating, and told me I'd have to walk to the city bus stop about five miles away. I had called several cab companies, but none offered service to that area. So I grabbed my duffel bag and started the long hike.
I've always been a sucker for shortcuts, ever since I was a little boy. So when I saw that I could cut through a field which would cut at least a half mile off my trip, I was eager to do so. There was a ditch between the highway and the field which I'd have to get across. I climbed down and prepared to jump over the water that was flowing through the wide ditch.
First I tossed my duffel bag gently across the other side. Then I took a few steps back to get a running start, and I rushed and jumped as far as I could. I came up just a little bit short of the bank on the other side of the water, and my tennis shoes immediately started to sink. The substance felt like a cross between muck and quicksand, and I was sinking steadily down. Soon my shoes had disappeared completely beneath the nasty muck, and I knew I had to take action quickly. I began to sway my body to get up some momentum, just like I did when I was a kid on the swingset. I threw myself forward and came tumbling down near my duffel bag. My feet were covered only by my white socks, as the muck had claimed my tennis shoes. The socks were mostly covered in mud, as were the bottom half of both legs.
I walked in my stocking feet til I found a Payless shoe store, where I went inside and bought a cheap pair of shoes. I had extra clean socks in my bag, but only had the one pair of shoes with me.
Luckily, I got a call from Riff, and there was a car in Tulsa headed to Richmond, VA. So I could ride the city bus from Broken Arrow into Tulsa easily enough. I got to the bus stop just as the bus had pulled away, and had to wait an hour for the next one to come.
Once I got to the car, I started on my journey east. Making a brief detour to a local bank so I could cash a few checks I still had totalling $500. I stopped near the Missouri border and got some gas and food. Before I left, I went to the dirty restroom way out back of the station. I was standing at the urinal when a large man wearing a trenchcoat walked in.
"Good morning," he said to me.
I don't much like talking to others, especially strangers, when I'm using the facilities. But I nodded and said "Hi."
"And how are you on this fine, fine morning?"
"Well actually, its afternoon."
"Thanks for the tip, smart ass. I'm gonna need all your money."
"What?"
"Give me all your money, now!"
"What? What?" I was feeling somewhat dazed.
The man pushed me against the wall and punched me with his fist. The hand he hit me with had a ring on every finger, and that made the sting of his punches much more painful. He forced the watch off my wrist and demanded, "Now empty your pockets. Don't you fuck with me, I ain't playing with you."
I felt angry and struggled, but he was much bigger and stronger than me and slammed me hard against the wall. Then he pulled out a large hunting knife and put the serated edge of it to my neck. I slowly reached into my pocket.
"Yeah, yeah, that's a good boy. Get it all out." He took the cash I pulled out of my pocket and looked at it. Ten one dollar bills. "What's this? Where's the rest?"
"Payday is tomorrow. That's all I've got left from last week."
"You stupid motherfu--... You're lucky I don't slice you up." He threw me down on the floor, gave me a good solid kick, and ran out of the restroom. I was very sore, and slowly got up and headed for my car.
I called the police, and the man I spoke to told me to consider myself lucky that I got away alive and with no serious injuries. He said he would send an officer out to take a report if I could just wait at the station for an hour or so. I decided that it wouldn't be worthwhile, I'd rather get on down the road. I 0pened the console compartment between the front bucket seats, and thanked God that I always leave my wallet there when I travel, only keeping a small amount of cash in my pockets.
There sure are a lot of mean people out there in the world. That is why I feel it is so important to try to be thoughtful and generous and show kindness to others whenever possible. Maybe it will catch on.
I had just delivered a car near Broken Arrow, OK. When I say near, I mean it was outside the city limits in a fairly rural area. The customer was not a bit accommodating, and told me I'd have to walk to the city bus stop about five miles away. I had called several cab companies, but none offered service to that area. So I grabbed my duffel bag and started the long hike.
I've always been a sucker for shortcuts, ever since I was a little boy. So when I saw that I could cut through a field which would cut at least a half mile off my trip, I was eager to do so. There was a ditch between the highway and the field which I'd have to get across. I climbed down and prepared to jump over the water that was flowing through the wide ditch.
First I tossed my duffel bag gently across the other side. Then I took a few steps back to get a running start, and I rushed and jumped as far as I could. I came up just a little bit short of the bank on the other side of the water, and my tennis shoes immediately started to sink. The substance felt like a cross between muck and quicksand, and I was sinking steadily down. Soon my shoes had disappeared completely beneath the nasty muck, and I knew I had to take action quickly. I began to sway my body to get up some momentum, just like I did when I was a kid on the swingset. I threw myself forward and came tumbling down near my duffel bag. My feet were covered only by my white socks, as the muck had claimed my tennis shoes. The socks were mostly covered in mud, as were the bottom half of both legs.
I walked in my stocking feet til I found a Payless shoe store, where I went inside and bought a cheap pair of shoes. I had extra clean socks in my bag, but only had the one pair of shoes with me.
Luckily, I got a call from Riff, and there was a car in Tulsa headed to Richmond, VA. So I could ride the city bus from Broken Arrow into Tulsa easily enough. I got to the bus stop just as the bus had pulled away, and had to wait an hour for the next one to come.
Once I got to the car, I started on my journey east. Making a brief detour to a local bank so I could cash a few checks I still had totalling $500. I stopped near the Missouri border and got some gas and food. Before I left, I went to the dirty restroom way out back of the station. I was standing at the urinal when a large man wearing a trenchcoat walked in.
"Good morning," he said to me.
I don't much like talking to others, especially strangers, when I'm using the facilities. But I nodded and said "Hi."
"And how are you on this fine, fine morning?"
"Well actually, its afternoon."
"Thanks for the tip, smart ass. I'm gonna need all your money."
"What?"
"Give me all your money, now!"
"What? What?" I was feeling somewhat dazed.
The man pushed me against the wall and punched me with his fist. The hand he hit me with had a ring on every finger, and that made the sting of his punches much more painful. He forced the watch off my wrist and demanded, "Now empty your pockets. Don't you fuck with me, I ain't playing with you."
I felt angry and struggled, but he was much bigger and stronger than me and slammed me hard against the wall. Then he pulled out a large hunting knife and put the serated edge of it to my neck. I slowly reached into my pocket.
"Yeah, yeah, that's a good boy. Get it all out." He took the cash I pulled out of my pocket and looked at it. Ten one dollar bills. "What's this? Where's the rest?"
"Payday is tomorrow. That's all I've got left from last week."
"You stupid motherfu--... You're lucky I don't slice you up." He threw me down on the floor, gave me a good solid kick, and ran out of the restroom. I was very sore, and slowly got up and headed for my car.
I called the police, and the man I spoke to told me to consider myself lucky that I got away alive and with no serious injuries. He said he would send an officer out to take a report if I could just wait at the station for an hour or so. I decided that it wouldn't be worthwhile, I'd rather get on down the road. I 0pened the console compartment between the front bucket seats, and thanked God that I always leave my wallet there when I travel, only keeping a small amount of cash in my pockets.
There sure are a lot of mean people out there in the world. That is why I feel it is so important to try to be thoughtful and generous and show kindness to others whenever possible. Maybe it will catch on.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
UNION
I drove into Madison, Wisconsin yesterday to deliver a car to an elderly couple. They had been calling me every hour on my drive to see where I was. It was a long drive up from Florida, and I had run into some really terrible weather along the way. When I got to the airport, where they asked me to meet them, I had the paperwork signed and then gave them $30 in toll receipts. "What is this for?" asked the haughty woman.
"Toll receipts, my boss Riff told me that you would reimburse me for them."
"I most certainly will not, and how dare you for presuming to ask me."
"I meant no offense, but my boss--"
"Yes, yes, your boss, always pass the buck and blame it on someone else. I don't believe your boss told you to ask me for anything, I think you are a con man and a charlatan, and you are trying to take advantage of me. You are a rude, rude, rude young man. Here, let me see those toll receipts." I handed all 20 pieces of paper to her, and she threw them up into the air. It was a windy day, and they went flying everywhere. "Now, let's just see what you're going to do about that!" She and her husband got into the car and drove away.
I rented a car, which would get me out of Madison the following day. But now I wanted a hotel room and a shower. When I went into the Best Western, there were a whole lot of people outside carrying signs climbing onto a bus. Protesters. I had been hearing a lot about this on the news for the past several weeks. Something about the Unions.
After I was checked in and had a shower, I went back to the desk and asked for something I could do for entertainment in Madison. The nice lady at the Front Desk suggested I go and see the parade downtown. I asked her what the parade was about, and she was interrupted by a phone call. She was delayed for a long time by the call, so I just smiled and waved and left.
I got downtown and found a hard time getting a parking spot, because of the crowds and street closures. Once I found the main drag where the parade was, I saw tractors going down the street. Lots and lots of tractors. And nothing else but tractors. This was the most unusual parade I had ever seen. It was bitter cold outside, and the wind was cutting right through me. So I found a place called the Coffee Shack and went in. There were a few other people in there, including an odd little man sitting in the corner mumbling to himself.
"How do you like the weather?" a friendly woman asked me as I added sugar and milk to my coffee.
"A whole lot colder than Florida, where I just came from. Say, what's this parade about? I've never seen one where they only have tractors."
"Oh, its a protest parade. The farmers are all driving their tractors down the street to show how unhappy they are with the state and federal funding. Or lack of funding. They are very mad at our Governor."
"I saw some protesters over by my hotel, I assumed they were all about the Union situation."
"Union!" shouted the odd man in the corner. "Did you say Union?" He came rushing over to where I was standing. "For God's sake man, do you know what you're saying?"
"I was just saying--"
"No excuses, the Unions are a very serious matter. Not to be taken lightly, not to be made fun of."
I shook my head. "I had no intention of making fun."
"So you say." He eyed me suspiciously. "My name is Pete, and I love the Unions. Do you hear what I'm saying?"
"Loud and clear, Pete."
"Union means the act of uniting or the state of being united."
"OK."
"It can also mean the state of matrimony. Or sexual intercourse."
"I suppose that's true," I said.
"Oh, there is no supposing. It's a fact. Think about it, the bond of their union led to years of happy marriage. In order to form a more perfect Union, the North beat the South in the Civil War. Were you aware of that?"
"Yes I was, I mean, I am."
"A Union can also be the coupling device for connecting parts, such as rods or pipes. Do you see where I'm headed with this?"
"Um, not exactly."
"When I was a kid I went to Training Union at my church every Sunday night. It was sort of like Sunday School, only at night. Does that mean anything to you at all?"
"Not really."
"Don't you have a heart? You just refuse to see what's right in front of your face. The Union protects the working man, and we must fight for the Unions above all else. It's the most important issue in these United States. Can you see that?"
"I think there are two sides to every issue."
"Then you are an ignorant moron, my friend. Can I make a suggestion to you? Please go rent the DVD of NORMA RAE, perhaps that will enlighten you. I weep for idiots like you." Pete burst into wild laughter and went running out, zig zagging as he ran. I guess I need to go watch NORMA RAE again. After all, Sally Field is a wonderful actress.
"Toll receipts, my boss Riff told me that you would reimburse me for them."
"I most certainly will not, and how dare you for presuming to ask me."
"I meant no offense, but my boss--"
"Yes, yes, your boss, always pass the buck and blame it on someone else. I don't believe your boss told you to ask me for anything, I think you are a con man and a charlatan, and you are trying to take advantage of me. You are a rude, rude, rude young man. Here, let me see those toll receipts." I handed all 20 pieces of paper to her, and she threw them up into the air. It was a windy day, and they went flying everywhere. "Now, let's just see what you're going to do about that!" She and her husband got into the car and drove away.
I rented a car, which would get me out of Madison the following day. But now I wanted a hotel room and a shower. When I went into the Best Western, there were a whole lot of people outside carrying signs climbing onto a bus. Protesters. I had been hearing a lot about this on the news for the past several weeks. Something about the Unions.
After I was checked in and had a shower, I went back to the desk and asked for something I could do for entertainment in Madison. The nice lady at the Front Desk suggested I go and see the parade downtown. I asked her what the parade was about, and she was interrupted by a phone call. She was delayed for a long time by the call, so I just smiled and waved and left.
I got downtown and found a hard time getting a parking spot, because of the crowds and street closures. Once I found the main drag where the parade was, I saw tractors going down the street. Lots and lots of tractors. And nothing else but tractors. This was the most unusual parade I had ever seen. It was bitter cold outside, and the wind was cutting right through me. So I found a place called the Coffee Shack and went in. There were a few other people in there, including an odd little man sitting in the corner mumbling to himself.
"How do you like the weather?" a friendly woman asked me as I added sugar and milk to my coffee.
"A whole lot colder than Florida, where I just came from. Say, what's this parade about? I've never seen one where they only have tractors."
"Oh, its a protest parade. The farmers are all driving their tractors down the street to show how unhappy they are with the state and federal funding. Or lack of funding. They are very mad at our Governor."
"I saw some protesters over by my hotel, I assumed they were all about the Union situation."
"Union!" shouted the odd man in the corner. "Did you say Union?" He came rushing over to where I was standing. "For God's sake man, do you know what you're saying?"
"I was just saying--"
"No excuses, the Unions are a very serious matter. Not to be taken lightly, not to be made fun of."
I shook my head. "I had no intention of making fun."
"So you say." He eyed me suspiciously. "My name is Pete, and I love the Unions. Do you hear what I'm saying?"
"Loud and clear, Pete."
"Union means the act of uniting or the state of being united."
"OK."
"It can also mean the state of matrimony. Or sexual intercourse."
"I suppose that's true," I said.
"Oh, there is no supposing. It's a fact. Think about it, the bond of their union led to years of happy marriage. In order to form a more perfect Union, the North beat the South in the Civil War. Were you aware of that?"
"Yes I was, I mean, I am."
"A Union can also be the coupling device for connecting parts, such as rods or pipes. Do you see where I'm headed with this?"
"Um, not exactly."
"When I was a kid I went to Training Union at my church every Sunday night. It was sort of like Sunday School, only at night. Does that mean anything to you at all?"
"Not really."
"Don't you have a heart? You just refuse to see what's right in front of your face. The Union protects the working man, and we must fight for the Unions above all else. It's the most important issue in these United States. Can you see that?"
"I think there are two sides to every issue."
"Then you are an ignorant moron, my friend. Can I make a suggestion to you? Please go rent the DVD of NORMA RAE, perhaps that will enlighten you. I weep for idiots like you." Pete burst into wild laughter and went running out, zig zagging as he ran. I guess I need to go watch NORMA RAE again. After all, Sally Field is a wonderful actress.
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