PROP PLANE

I had just delivered a car to Sacramento.  And I was sitting at the airport waiting for a flight to Atlanta, but I had a long wait ahead.  So I was reading a book that came out about me called A DRIVING FOOL.  Appropriate title.  It pretty much captures me, my love of cars and travel, my job delivering cars around the country, and the truly nutty people I meet every single day on the road.

It was still five hours until my flight when the airline announced that the flight had been cancelled.  I had befriended the gate agent, and he made a primary concern out of finding me another way to get to Atlanta.  He found a way, but told me that I would have to hurry.  There was a flight leaving in 30 minutes on Alaska Air that would take me up to Portland, Oregon.  After a six hour layover I could catch a flight on to Atlanta, and would arrive there ten hours past the time I was originally to get there.  Oh well, it was the holidays.  New Years Eve, in fact.

I hurried to the other terminal and got to the gate just moments before they closed the doors.  I found my seat on the plane next to the window over the wing.  And I looked out and saw something I've never seen on a plane before: propellors!  I have only been on jet planes, and this was going to be a new experience.

A very nice flight attendant named Annie welcomed me.  She was very sweet and sincere, and she pointed out that the empty aisle seat next to me would offer me room to stretch out and relax.  But once we were up in the air, I could see that relaxing was not in the cards for me.  The props were very loud, and the turbulence was unlike any I have ever felt.  And then we flew into the thunderstorm.  I began to turn into a nervous wreck very quickly.  Closing my eyes very tightly, I tried my best to think of happy thoughts.

And then Annie sat down in the seat next to me.  "You OK?" she asked.

I opened my eyes and forced a smile.  I nodded at her.  She looked to be in her early 30's, and was pretty in a natural, girl next door sort of way.  Her eyes danced with kindness and a hint of mischief.  "Thanks for asking."

"Mind if I sit here with you a while?"

"Can you do that?"

She smiled.  "Sure I can.  It's my job to make the passengers comfortable.  Everyone has their drinks, I can take a few with you."

"That'd be great."  We hit another bad patch of bumps in the air, and I tensed up.  Annie reached over and took my hand.  "I must seem like a wuss to you."

She shook her head.  "Not at all.  You seem like a real nice guy, or I wouldn't be sitting here next to you."

"Thanks, Annie."

"What's your name?"

"Oh geez, I'm sorry, I'm Bill Thomas."

"Well Bill, I'd say you just made a new friend."

"I like making new friends."

"That makes two of us."

She had to get up a few times and check on people, but for the most part she stayed with me for the rest of the flight.  After we landed, I waited for everyone to get off the plane so that I could chat with Annie.  We walked off the plane together.  "I sincerely appreciate you taking time out for me.  Thanks for making me feel better."

"To tell the truth, it makes me feel good to know I helped someone.  So what do you do, Bill."

"I drive cars all over the country, delivering them to folks everywhere in the lower 48.  And I meet the craziest people wherever I go."

Annie looked surprised.  "Wow.  That sounds so much like a book that my girlfriend just read.  It's about a guy who delivers cars, and he meets weirdos, but he also tries to help people.  It's called, um, A DRIVING FOOL."

I laughed.  "That's me.  That book is about me."

"No way."

"Yes way."

"Seriously?"

I pulled the copy of the book out of my backpack.  She looked very excited.  "You want a copy?"

"For real?"

"Of course."

"Will you sign it for me?"

"Sure, if you like."  I opened the book and signed it on the front page.

"This is so bizarre.  It's like one of your driving fool adventures."

"They happen all the time, every day."

She looked all revved up.  "I'm gonna hug you now."  And she hugged me, much to my delight.  "You know what?  I'm gonna kiss you now."  And she gave me a soft kiss on the cheek.

I looked at her expectantly.  "And?"

She smirked.  "And that's all you're gonna get."

I stuck out my bottom lip to mock a child's pout.  She giggled.  "It was so nice to meet you, Annie."

"You too, Bill."  She turned to walk away, then stopped and turned around.  "Where are you headed?"

"Atlanta.  I have a six hour layover."

"I've got a seven hour layover.  They have a room booked for me here at the airport hotel.  Want to come up and hang out with me there?"

I didn't have to think about it long.  "You bet.  We can both catch a nap before our next flights."

She smiled and walked over to me, taking me by the hand.  "I'm sure we'll find something to do."

And we stayed up talking and laughing and playing games.  It was a very Happy New Year.

HACKING SONY

I had just driven into Los Angeles to deliver a Ford Fusion to a man in the Culver City area.  My cell phone rang.  "This is Bill."

"OK loser, what's your excuse this time?"  It was my not always charming boss, Riff.

"My excuse for what?"

"Exactly!  There is no excuse for you, not now, not ever."

"What are you talking about, Riff?"

"I'm talking about you taking so damn long to deliver a car."

"Riff, I picked it up in Chicago the day before yesterday.  I'd say driving this far and delivering the third day is pretty good."

"I don't really care about your opinion, blubber ball.  Call me when you're done."  And he hung up.

I had sent a text to my customer, Mr. Emerson, alerting him that I'd be there within the hour.  When I drove up into his driveway, I found him standing on his front porch.  By the look on his face, I thought he must be in a very bad mood.  "Are you Bill?" he asked as I climbed out of the car.

"Yes sir, Bill Thomas.  And this is your new company car."

"Well whoopee, isn't it my lucky day."  His glib and flippant attitude confused me.

"The car is in great shape."

"Oh really, is that your opinion?"  He dropped his head and shook it back and forth.  "Listen Bill, I'm sorry for my behavior."

"Don't worry about it."

"No, please hear me out.  I'm just real upset at the moment because I think my wife is going to lose her job.  She works at Sony Pictures, and I'm sure you heard about the hacking."

"Oh yes, it's all over the news."

"Damn Koreans, they don't like a movie that the studio is making so they start this shit storm.  I mean what the hell?"

"We live in a crazy world."

"You can say that twice and mean it.  She sent out some personal emails, and for that she is on the brink of unemployment."

"I'm sure everything will work out.  Would you like to look over the car?"

"How can I think about my new company car when my wife is in distress?  Why are the Koreans hacking into Sony anyhow?  Can you tell me that?  Can you please explain it?"

I shrugged.  "No, I really can't.  I understand that it was mostly about a new movie that they didn't want to see released."

"Yeah well, mission accomplished.  Now Sony won't be releasing the movie."

"I hadn't heard that."

"Come on Bill, pull your head out of the sand.  It's all over the internet.  There were threats about attacks on the theaters showing the movie and so Sony pulled it completely."

I nodded.  "Well, I'm sure it will be on DVD or video on demand."

"No, no, not at all.  Nothing, nowhere.  Done deal.  But the real issue is my wife, you don't know how this is affecting her.  What can we do, Bill?  I really need your input."

"My input?"

"Tell me what to do to fix this for my wife."

"I don't have any idea."

"Oh come on Bill, you can come up with something.  Please?"

"Say a prayer, cross your fingers, make a wish.  That's the best I can come up with on short notice."

Mr. Emerson nodded and patted me on the shoulder.  "Thanks for caring enough to try to help.  Do you have some paperwork for me to sign?"

"Right here."  He signed and I made a hasty retreat.  I felt for the guy, but he was asking me questions that I had no answers for.  Not even remotely.  As I walked towards the bus stop, I found myself feeling disturbed over the news about this movie THE INTERVIEW not being released.  We've come to the point where another nation can dictate what forms of entertainment we can put out?  We are submitting to terrorism?  And does the hack attack on Sony foreshadow bigger and worse cyber attacks in the future?

All I know is that I love movies, and I don't appreciate the Koreans or anyone else deciding what I can or cannot watch.

RED MUSTANG TAXI

My boss Riff was shouting at me on the phone yesterday, which is not at all unusual.  He is a bad-tempered fellow on his best days.  "The lady says you were supposed to be there to pick up her car an hour ago!  Just where the hell are you?"

"I'm at the Amtrak station here in Benson, Arizona.  We got in a little late, and the taxi I arranged to pick me up hasn't shown up yet."

"Aren't there any other cabs there at the train station?"

"No sir."

"Listen to me, you little putrid pudge-ball!  I don't care what you have to do or how, you just get your retarded ass to the pick up address. And I mean now!"  The line went dead.

I called the taxi service for the third time and stressed how important it was that I be picked up promptly.  This is why I had called ahead and planned in advance, which I always do.  The dispatcher I spoke to sounded lethargic and not at all interested in my situation.  Then I received another text from the customer whose house I was trying to get to.  The fifth such text.  She was growing more impatient by the minute.

A fire engine red mustang pulled into the parking lot in front of the station.  A giant goofy-looking man was behind the wheel.  He looked me over.  "Hey, are you Bob?"

"No, I'm Bill."

"Bill, yes, that's what I meant to say.  I'm your taxi ride."

"This is a taxi?"

"Well, it's my own car, but I use it for my job as a taxi driver.  Hop on in."

I climbed in and told him the address.  "It's five miles from here."

"What is?"

"The address I just gave you.  Where I need you to take me."

"Where?"

"Just turn left out of the parking lot."

"OK."  And with that, he turned right as he said  "My name is Horace."

"Hi, Horace.  No, you needed to turn left."

"What?"

"Left.  A left turn."

"Oh.  I turned right.  Can I make a U-turn?"

"That would be a good idea."

Horace eyed me up and down.  "You seem a little tense."

"Sorry man, but I was supposed to be at this customer's house an hour ago.  She is really pissed at me."

"You and I have something in common then, Bob.  My girlfriend is pissed at me, too.  Guess we both just got our women mad at us, huh?"

"Not my girlfriend, just a customer."

"Who?"  Horace made the U-turn.

"Now we'll turn right at the next light up there."

"Where?"

"That next light.  Turn right."

"You're gonna have to give me real clear directions.  I don't know my way around this town much yet."

I nodded.  "How long have you lived here, Horace?"

"Born and raised here, never left this city one day in my life."  He made the right turn at the light.

"Now it's real easy from here, we just go 4 1/2 miles then turn right."

Horace looked terribly confused.  "But how will I know when we've gone 4 1/2 miles?"

"Just watch the odometer."

His brow furrowed.  "What's an odometer, Bob?"

"It's Bill. Tell you what, I'll watch it for you and tell you when to turn right."

"Here?" he said suddenly, preparing to turn right.

"No, no, not yet.  Just keep on going straight.  We'll turn right on Manor."

"Yep, manners are important.  My girl says if I had better manners we'd get along better."

"No, I mean we turn right on Manor."

"Now?" shouted Horace, preparing to turn right again.

"No, not now, keep going.  I'll let you know when its time to turn.  We have to get to Manor first."

"Exactly what I'm saying, manners is the key to everything.  Good relationships, good work.  Course I don't make too much money.  I depend a lot on tips... hint, hint, hint."

I looked around the dash for some type of meter.  "So how do you calculate how much I pay for the ride?"

"What?  No, I don't carry a calculator."

"No, I...  What I mean is that I don't see a meter, so how do I know what to pay you?"

"Oh, well its five dollars for picking you up, then two dollars per mile."

"OK, so the total will be fifteen dollars."

Horace slammed on the brakes and gasped.  It's a miracle that the car behind us didn't slam into our rear end.  "How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

Horace stepped on the gas again and let out a long whistle, obviously impressed.  "How in the world did you figure that out."

"Uh... well its five to pick me up, then two bucks times five miles is ten bucks, so fifteen.  It's pretty obvious."

"To you maybe, not to normal folks.  You must be one of them math geniuses.  I think I could get to like you, pal."

"Thanks."

"No thanks necessary.  Now that fifteen won't include my tip, right?"  Horace winked at me broadly.

He went on to tell me about his troubles with his girlfriend, and how he suspected her of sleeping with all his best buddies.  And every few blocks, he started to turn right and ask me if this was the street.  Finally, I could see the street sign "Manor Ave." just up ahead.  "OK Horace, this is it."

"This is what?"

"Our turn."

"You want me to turn?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Now!"

"Now?"  And with that we passed Manor Ave.

"We just passed our turn."

"Want me to go back?"

"If you would."  He made another U-turn and went back to Manor.  When we pulled up to the ladies house, she was standing in the front yard with her arms crossed, looking very unhappy.  I had the cash ready and handed Horace eighteen dollars. 

"Hey, you gave me too much.  You said it would be fifteen dollars."

"Don't forget about the tip," I told him, winking broadly.

His roaring laugh reminded me of Herman Munster.  "Hey Bob, you know something.  You and I are a lot alike.  We're both very smart and clever and funny.  We are two peas in the same pod."

I grabbed my bag and walked up to pick up a new car and try to assuage an angry customer.

BARBIE'S DREAM HOUSE

My friend Julie likes to text a lot.  And it always brightens my day to hear from her.  She has three great kids, and a husband who I liken to a bad ass superhero.  She had been texting me on my way to pick up a car just outside of Kansas City.

It was the day before Thanksgiving, and I knew it was going to be another lonely holiday for me on the road.  I stopped one block from the pickup address to use the restroom.  While I was taking a brief rest, I texted Julie back about the car I was about to get and the customer who kept on texting me instructions.  She ended each text by signing her name-- Barbie.

It made me chuckle a bit, so I wrote to Julie that my customer's name was Barbie, and I wondered if she lived in Barbie's dream house.  And I also wondered if her husband was named Ken.  Then I sent the text to Julie.  Only I realized a second later that I'd accidentally sent it to Barbie.  A cold chill ran up my spine, and I knew I was in deep doo-doo.  Oh my goodness, this woman would be furious with me.

I walked the last block to Barbie's address, and she came out the front door all smiles.  "Hello Bill, I'm Barbie.  Welcome to my dream house."

I dropped my head in shame.  I tried hard to say something, but no words would come.

Barbie pointed at a classic Dodge Charger sitting out in the front yard.  "See that car?  It's a 1975 Dodge Charger.  It's a classic, in pristine condition.  It belongs to my husband, Ken."

I shook my head.  "Miss, I am so, so sorry."

She nodded.  "For what?  My husband's name really is Ken."

"Oh."  I was a bit taken aback.  "I was trying to text someone else."

"Yes, I gathered that."

"But I never should have said that.  I never should have texted it.  I am so embarrassed and ashamed right now."

She passed it off with a wave of her hand.  "No reason to apologize.  I have a good sense of humor.  And with a name like Barbie, I've heard it all before."

"It was very unprofessional of me."

"Don't be too hard on yourself."  She stepped up to me and took my clipboard with her paperwork.  "Is this for me?"

"Uh, yes ma'am, if you can just sign on the bottom line."

 She did so then handed it back to me, along with the keys to the minivan I was there to pick up.  "I am a good Christian woman, and part of that means I always find forgiveness.  But a word of advice?  Be more careful what you text and who you text it to in the future."

I nodded enthusiastically.  "Yes, of course, I absolutely will."

"Good enough.  Have a wonderful day, and God bless."

"God bless you too, ma'am."

She winked at me.  "Just call me Barbie."

Now I really had something to be thankful for on Thanksgiving.  As I drove out of there, I turned to the Guardian angel who I always imagine sitting next to me in the passenger seat and said  "Thanks for getting me out of that one.  Whew!"

A DOG IN NEED

I was driving down the highway in the Hill country of Texas, on my way to see my friends Tom and Jenny at their ranch full of dogs.  I've made no secret of the fact that I love dogs, and all dogs that I meet seem to instinctively know this.  Because I am always on the road it is impractical for me to own a dog at this point, but it does my heart good to stop at the ranch.  With up to 50 dogs there at any given time, I get all the canine love I can handle.

I changed lanes to go around a slow car, and a car coming up behind me accelerated and began flashing their lights at me to express their extreme displeasure.  "Well I guess you showed me," I said as I looked into the rear view mirror.  "I guess I've been told off now.  You flashed your lights at me, I must now hide my head in shame.  I have been schooled, I've been taught a lesson that I won't soon forget.  You really showed me who's boss."  I chuckled to myself and pulled over to the right lane so that the speed demon could get past me in his bad Porsche.  As he passed, he swerved his car at me and gave me the finger.

I needed to stop for a restroom break, and saw an old country store and gas station I've been to many times before.  Just in time!  I pulled off to the side of the store, and I was startled to see a large man beating a small Beagle.  The man had his belt in his hand, and was repeatedly whipping the dog with it.  To make matters worse, the belt buckle was striking the little dog, and I couldn't stand to watch.

Jumping out of the car, I hurried over to the man.  I don't know if I thought somehow I would be able to reason with him, because he was in a wild rage and was screaming and cursing at the dog.  "You stupid mutt, I've had about all I'm gonna take from you!  I got no choice but to beat you bloody, and maybe you will learn to mind your manners and obey me."

I stepped up to the man.  "Excuse me, but--"

"Screw you!" he spat.

"Sir, you can't beat that poor dog."

"I'd say I'm doing a pretty good job of it."  And the man got even more vicious with his attack on the pooch as he spoke to me.  "He's my mutt and I can do what I want with him."

"It's not right, you can't--"

"I suggest you walk away before I turn my belt on you."

"No, I'm not going to walk away, but you--"

The man spun around and gave me a mighty shove that dropped me onto the ground.  I sat on my butt for about a split second, then heard the dog yelp.  Something snapped inside of me, and I jumped to my feet and sprang towards the man swinging my arm as hard as I could.  My balled up fist made contact with the side of his head, and the man dropped like a big sack of potatoes.  The dog quickly ran into the crop field that surrounded the country store.  I stood and stared down at the man.  He was out cold, and I couldn't believe I had knocked him out with one punch.  I must have struck him in the temple.  It was a lucky punch, but I was also acting out of rage.  I can't stand injustice, and it's not right and not fair to hurt a poor animal.

Rather than stand around and wait to have to explain myself to the next passerby, I jumped into my car and took off.  One mile later I came to a construction site on the highway and had to come to a stop.  I went onto Twitter and tweeted about what had just happened.  It felt very odd to me, because I'm a peace-loving, non-violent person who likes to avoid confrontation.

Around one hour later, I pulled into the driveway leading up to Tom and Jenny's ranch.  When I pulled up to the house, Jenny came rushing out the door.  When I got out of the car, she jumped into my arms and hugged me tightly.  "I love you Bill!"

"I love you, too," I said.

"I read your tweet, and I am so proud of you.  That man had no right to beat on a defenseless dog, and I'm glad you kicked his ass."

"It was just a punch to the head, but he passed out."  I opened the passenger door to my car, and the beagle jumped out.  Jenny grabbed him up into her arms and began loving him.  "Poor little guy took off running, but then I got stopped for road construction and he came running out of the field.  I grabbed him up, I thought he needed a new home."

"He will have one here!  Than man was damn lucky I wasn't there, I would've pulled out my gun and sent him straight to Hell."

"Then I am really glad you weren't there. And by the way, I really, really need to use your restroom."

Tom came to the front door and waved at me.  "Welcome, buddy."

Jenny looped her arm through mine.  "Come on into the house.  I'm going to fix you anything you want for supper.  You're my hero today."

I am definitely no hero.  But I had to stand up for an innocent dog.  And I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

EBOLA IN MY SOUL-A

I was driving through Texas last week when I got bit by a spider.  It happened while I was pumping gas, and it turned out to be a brown recluse spider.  My leg got all swollen up badly with infection, and I had no choice but to go to a hospital.

I got very lonely there, as I always do in hospitals.  I was in a city where I didn't know anyone, so there was no chance that a living soul would come to visit me.  I started to feel pretty down in the dumps by my fourth day, and then the door to my private room opened.  A young pre-teen boy stepped inside, wearing a hospital gown just like I was.

"Hello," I said to him.

He held up a hand to greet me and said,  "Hi."

"Are you looking for someone?"

"Nope, just really bored."

I smiled.  "I can certainly understand that feeling.  My name is Bill."

"I'm Nate, glad to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you too, Nate."

"What are you in here for?"

"I got bit by a brown recluse spider.  I guess I'm allergic."

Nate's face lit up and he looked very excited.  "Maybe you'll turn into Spider Man now!"

I shook my head.  "I very seriously doubt it."

He was determined in his conviction.  "You never know.  Anything's possible, it could happen."

"Okay, you're right.  I need to look at the glass more as half full."

Nate furrowed his brow.  "What?  Half full?  I don't understand."

I shrugged.  "I'm just saying you are correct.  Maybe I will turn into Spider Man."

He smiled again and nodded enthusiastically.  "Hey, I wrote a poem, you want to hear it?"

"Sure buddy, I'd love to."

He reached behind his back and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.  Since there are no pockets in the hospital gowns, I briefly wondered where he had been storing the poem.  Then I decided it was best to just focus on the poetry and not the location it came from.  "Ready?" he asked.

"Yes, go for it."

Nate cleared his throat then began to read.  "I knew a girl named Lola, she liked to drink Coca Cola, she liked to hear rock and roll-a, she played it on her Victrola, she said she came from Nola, and now I have Ebola, deep down in my soul-a."

I stared at the boy slack-jawed.  I didn't know what to say.  "Uh..."

He was beaming with pride.  "Pretty good for a 12 year old, isn't it?"

"Well, you sure do know how to rhyme.  But I have to ask-- do you really have the Ebola virus?"

He shrugged.  "I don't know.  I keep hearing about it on TV and used it for my poem."

Suddenly, two nurses dressed in Hazmat suits came in and quickly scooped up Nate.  "What's going on?" I asked fearfully.

"Can I come and visit you again sometime?" asked Nate as they whisked him out of the room.  Then a third nurse in a Hazmat suit came in.

"Are you feeling alright?" she asked me.

"So far so good.  But did that kid have Ebola?"

"What?  Goodness no, why would you think that?"

"Because of a poem he wrote."

"A poem?"

I was feeling frustrated.  "Yes, but also two people came in and rushed him out of here.  All of you are wearing those bio protection suits."

"That's not for him, that's for you."

"It is.  But why?"

"We've determined that you may have MRSA."

"What's that?"

"It's a really bad infection, and we are all going to have to wear these suits when we come into your room.  Until you are completely better or we can determine you don't have MRSA."

"Oh.  I guess that's comforting."

It took them 24 hours to finally decide definitively that I did not have MRSA.  And I am very thankful about that, dealing with the spider bite was enough.  I never saw Nate again, but his visit was very memorable.  It's always nice to have visitors when you spend time in the hospital.

SNUGGLE BUNNIES

For a driving fool, its all about the daily routine.  Driving here and there all over the United States, seeing things most Americans never get to enjoy.  Meeting new people, often times oddly bizarre people.  But also folks who are in need or offer me kindness just when I need it most.

I have a lot of time and opportunity to study other people's driving habits on the road.  It gives me a lot of terms and definitions of my own.  For instance, a few of my pet peeves include people who get into the left lane on an interstate highway and go ten miles under the speed limit.  Refusing to move over to the right and let all the drivers behind them go the full, proper speed.  And texting while driving is not only irritating, its insane.  Robin Williams did a wonderful bit about it, explaining that your brain can't drive and text at the same time, and one day your brain will just quit on you and let you crash.

There is an event that often occurs on highways.  Say you are on a large highway, like the LBJ freeway that loops around Dallas.  It has four lanes going in each direction.  The far left lane, or number one lane, along with number two and three lanes, will collect three drivers who go side by side.  All of them at the exact same speed, usually five to ten miles below the posted speed limit.  I call this BUILDING A WALL.  I constantly find myself jumping over into the number four lane, aka the slow lane, to whip around them and get down the road.

And then there are those folks who like to drive in clumps.  They want to be in a group, as close as they possibly can to the other cars.  And some drivers seem to think driving is like swimming, you need the buddy system.  A car will speed up behind me, and when they are directly behind me they lock in on my tail and stay right with me.  This irritates me, so I speed up considerably.  They stay right with me.  So I slow down, sometimes as far as twenty miles below the speed limit.  But they slow down the exact same amount.  I've had to go so far as to just pull over on the shoulder of the highway so these parasites will go away.  I call them SNUGGLE BUNNIES.

There are the pleasant moments on the road, however.  Such as when I'm driving and suddenly notice that there is a clump of cars 100 yards ahead of me.  And there is another clump of cars 100 yards behind me.  But I am in a space all alone.  I call this being in a POCKET.  When this happens, I just immediately feel a sense of joy and pleasure wash over me.  I smile and relax and careen down the road on my way to my next adventure.  A driving fool rides again!