Christmas Adventures

I'm glad that my older years are still filled with unexpected adventures. I think it helps to show that I'm not quite ready for the nursing home.

Yesterday morning (Christmas Eve) I drove to Salem to get a haircut. Now what can wrong in doing that? I figured, "nothing" so I took the car, my wallet, and my longish hair to Dean Fox's Barber Shop. I got my usual nice short cut and Dean and I had a nice chat about a little of everything. Then I left there and drove to the local Moto-Mart to buy a coke and a newspaper. When I got back in the car it started right away, but I couldn't get the gear shift lever out of park.

After trying the usual things - like turning the car off, restarting, and trying again with no luck, I walked next door to the church, let myself in, and called the nearest GM dealer (Max Dye). His mechanic, Barry, gave me another clue, so I went back to the car and tried that - with no luck.

So I got out the Owner's Guide for my 2008 Impala and my title papers, walked back to the church and called Barry again. He said that I needed to have the car towed in and, since it was still under warranty, there was a set of procedures in the guide to do that. He said that he would not be able to get to my car until Monday - with Christmas off and all that.

So I asked about a loaner. I got transferred to the owner, Max, who said he did have one. I finally had the presence of mind to ask how late they would be open on Christmas Eve. Max said, "Until 12 noon." I glanced at my desk clock, which indicated that it was now 11:50 AM. Max said he would stay a bit late until I got there. I called Al Lever, one of the leaders in the church, and he drove over and picked me up, delivering me in short order to Max Dye's place. He gave me a Cadillac Deville (a few years old with 108,000 miles on it, but it runs very well).

Then it was back to the church to call the Chevrolet Roadside Assistance people. I spoke with a very nice lady who took care of all my needs. Then all I had to do was to wait for the tow truck. He came out of Mt. Vernon (about 20 miles south of Salem), but he was sent to Centralia (about 20 miles to the Soutwest of Salem). He finally got to Salem and began the process to extract my car from the parking spot by literally dragging it along the surface of the parking lot, since he needed to tow it from the front!

Once he got the car pulled out, the tow driver took position in front of my Impala and tried to lower his hydraulic unit into place. It wouldn't engage. So while I stood in the ever colder wind, he called his boss and the two of them figured out a way to make it engage. That all took about twenty minutes, but finally my Impala was attached to the tow truck properly and he towed it to Max Dye's place. We dropped it off and he returned me to the church, where I picked up the Caddy and drove home, arriving around 2:30 PM.

At 4:30 PM, Sue and I drove back to the church and began preparations for the Christmas Eve service. It was a lovely service with nearly a full house. The Church was decorated beautifully, our musicians (organist and harpsichordist Martha Stiehl and assisting organist Elizabeth Shuler) made fantastic music, the "corps de Ballet" performed their roles wonderfully and most of the people said that they enjoyed the service immensely. Afterwards we had our usual Church Christmas Party and everyone stuffed themselves with fantastic food prepared by a number of the ladies. Then it was time to get home to bed.

This morning, Christmas Day, I awoke and went downstairs to feed the kitty cats. I noticed that the truck to the Caddy was open - even though I had never opened it. I must have pressed that button on the key before I went up to bed the night before. At any rate, the battery was dead. So Sue and I went to church in my pickup truck. We set up the church for the morning service, but no one ever showed up, so after a while we secured everything and came back home.

When we got home I looked around the house and found an old jump start box that I bought years ago and had never used. So I plugged it into the wall, hoping that it would take a charge. By 6:00 PM this evening, it indicated that it was ready for use, so Sue and I went out and I searched the engine box for the negative connector (the positive pole was easy to find). Finally finding it, I connected the jump unit and Sue hit the key. The Caddy started right up! Thank you, God, even though I know you aren't into jumper units.

We took a nice hour long drive to get the battery charged back up and arrived back home just before 8:00 PM tonight. I came in, did the pots and pans, started the dish washer, ate a bit of supper and am ready to quit for the day.

Tomorrow we do grandchildren and that will probably be another adventure. Until then, God Bless all of you and sleep well this mid-winter night. TAD+

A Sailor's Christmas Story

In 1959 I was attending the Nuclear Propulsion School in Vallejo, California. The school shut down over the holidays and most of the men took leave. I didn't take leave, initially, because I was in my usual state of being totally broke, except for enough money to feed myself and go the movies once in a while. But I was terribly homesick. A friend told me that I could hitch a ride to Travis Air Force Base, then get a "hop" to the east coast, where I could hitch hike home. Then I could simply work it backwards to return to California in early January.

So off I went, with only my pea coat, a small bag of clothing, and around $50. Getting to Travis was no problem, but I found myself waiting with a few hundred men to catch hops to anywhere but there. I met an Air Force guy who was driving to the east coast and he was rounding up others to help pay for gas - we would drive straight through, he said. So four more of us piled into an old Ford and hit the road.

By the end of day #1, we had gotten as far as Edwards Air Force base where the guy's old car expired. So an Army guy and I checked into the terminal and lo and behold, we got right out on a hop to New Jersey. While waiting for the plane, I had to make a quick pit stop in the restroom. When I came back out, someone had taken off with my pea coat! But I figured, well, the weather didn't look too bad and anyway, I'd being getting rides up NY 17 to my home. So off I went, only to fetch up at a now-closed AFB on Long Island (I've forgotten the name). I took a bus into New York City, another over into New Jersey and found route 17 and stuck out my thumb for a ride.

The first few rides I got were fairly short ones and after a hour or two had only gone about 15 miles. By then the Northeast Winter had begun to settle in and I found myself walking along route 17 in a blowing snow. A bit later I found myself walking past Westwood. I saw a small diner just off the highway (it was a four-lane highway even then), so I left the highway to get something to eat. It was during the diner hour.

In the diner, all the talk was about how hazardous Route 17 was becoming to the northwest, the direction in which I was heading. I was really getting nervous, since I was now without my coat and the temperature was well below freezing. I remembered that my parents knew a couple in Westwood, a Mr. Cornell and his daughter Helen. So, on a whim, I when to the public phone in the diner (most places had them, then) and called them. I explained my predicament to them and asked if it would be possible to come to there place and camp out overnight. They, of course, said, "Yes," and said that Mr. Cornell would be over to pick me up shortly.

When I hung up the phone, and turned back to the counter to finish my meal, every eye in the place was on me. They had all heard my story of trying to get home, having lost my pea-coat, and how I was getting a bit desperate for some kind of shelter. The owner would not let me pay for my meal, even though I did have enough money for that. And, before Mr. Cornell arrived, they had each given me some words of encouragement.

That night I spend in the Cornell's spare bedroom and slept like a log. I expected to hit the road the next morning, but when I got up, Mr. Cornell had already gotten me a train ticket (on the old weary Erie Rail Road). They took me to the station and saw me safely off for the holidays, wishing me and my folks a very Merry Christmas.

In January I flew back to California, but that's another story. This one is a true story that showed me that the best thing a person can have in this world is love from friends and family. Merry Christmas to all of you. TAD+

Advent

The season of Advent is a wonderful one, but we've managed to mess it up by insisting that the coming of Christ is a woeful event. Personally, I love the season and its climax on Christmas Eve when we all gather to celebrate God's coming into the world to take it on himself. So I will continue to joyously celebrate this season of the Church.

But for those of you who prefer something more somber, here is a little ditty I got off the internet:


Have Yourself a Dismal Little Advent
(An Advent Carol?)

Have yourself a dismal little Advent,
Filled with guilt and gloom.
You’ve got these four weeks to contemplate your doom.

Turn down all those party invitations;
Mustn’t celebrate;
You should stay home fasting, and self-flagellate.

Shun the lure of the shopping mall,
Where they’ve decked the hall since May.
Just recall it’s the eschaton You must focus on today.

It’s no time for singing Christmas carols;
That we can’t allow!
Chant Psalm 51, if you remember how–
And have yourself a dismal little Advent now!

Thanks to Ann Fontaine, quoting Mary Cox who, I presume, wrote this little ditty.

Peace to All. TAD+