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| Randy Terry (R_terry)
Registered Member Username: R_terry Post Number: 7 Registered: 11-2006 Posted From: 206.169.46.69 Rating: |
An odd thing happened to me: I stepped into The Twilight Zone. Now, everyday is Saturday. Imagine what it’s like when everyday is Saturday. You don’t have to get up, drive to work, punch in, or read through hundreds of life-wasting emails. It’s Saturday. On Saturday I sit on the porch and watch the birds, drink lemonade, and listen to the wind chimes. The skinny chimes make a delicate tinkling sound. The fat ones remind me of church. When a light breeze whips up, they all ping about in a spontaneous symphony of musical chaos. When it calms down, the world seems peaceful and quiet. But it’s not. Birds chirping, singing, and carrying on in every manner of way fill the auditory void left when the wind chimes return to their silent equilibrium. Listen carefully: there’s not a single moment of peace and quiet out there. On Saturday, to go with that lemonade, I make the world’s greatest sandwich: two grilled slices of rye bread, one side spread with Thousand Island dressing, then piled high with very thinly-sliced hot pastrami and a slice of Swiss cheese. On the other side, home-made coleslaw prepared from finely-shredded cabbage, a touch of red onion, lots of black pepper, a squirt of lemon juice, some mayonnaise and a sprinkle or two of sugar. Slam the two halves together and Presto!, a New Yorker! It’s Saturday and I’m in heaven. The only thing is, when you’re stuck in The Twilight Zone, EVERY day is Saturday. There is something wrong with this picture. I’ll say! But that’s what happens to you when you get a ‘pink slip’. They used to say, “It’s the economy, stupid!” What they should say now is, “It’s the train wreck, you idiots!” Watching the dominos fall, one after the other, and not being able to do anything about it is terribly unsettling. You can see them falling down and you know perfectly well that one of them is going to knock you down, too; it’s just a matter of time. I ran out of time. Now I am stuck in a world in which every day of the week is Saturday. I wrote about this the last time I posted. I said the bus was going to save me. From the standpoint of the economy, if worse came to worse, I could simply start the bus and drive off. That is exactly what I did. My ignominious farewell came on Barack Obama’s presidential inauguration. Of the 70,000 folks who lost their jobs on that auspicious day, the company I worked for contributed 1500 to the unemployment toll. Dominos down. More to go. Time to look the Salvage Yard On Wheels in the eye, pat her on the noseplate, and see if she’s still got it in her. It was time to air up and roll out. Uh oh, I detect a crack in the veneer--my veneer. I know what needs to be done and I am confident I can do it. I know I can. So, why am I so worried? Could it be the SYOW, my trusty old companion? She hasn’t been on the road since early 2004. Should I worry about that? It started gnawing on me. Anything could go wrong. The very last thing I needed--no, the absolutely very last thing I needed--was to be stranded somewhere on the road with a dead bus. I simply couldn’t afford that, not now. The world was closing in on me and I hadn’t even fired her up. The crack was getting bigger. “SNAP OUT OF IT, R!” Out on the patio next to the bus, I forced myself to take my own advice. Except for one time in Toledo, Ohio, during my very first outing, the bus has never let me down. It may be the best damn bus on the planet. (See, Doctor, I can get through this.) I bought new batteries, filters, and topped off the fluids. I brought the tires up to proper inflation, and lowered the TV antenna. Moment of truth. I flipped on the master and toggled the start switch. Vr-r-o-o-om! Oh, yes, the sweetest music to my ears. Maybe ever. OK, this is no time to celebrate; we haven’t even left the driveway. There’s 250 miles of Arizona open road to go, and that gnawing thing hasn’t entirely subsided. It’s busy chewing on a nerve, trying to convince my brain that something will go wrong. But what? Anything. Everything. Leaving Phoenix was a real undertaking. Although I resided in an RV park, I had five vehicles (a violation of park policy): A Chevy Impala, a ¾-ton Dodge pickup, two motorcycles and a bus. (Naughty man! This is probably why they made me move to the back of the park, accessible only from another street. I always thought it was because the bus was too ugly. Maybe it’s not all that ugly.) Anyway, I never worried for a second about getting those other vehicles home; I worried exclusively about the bus. Gnawing. It took three trips to get all my vehicles and all my stuff home; the first trip was in the pickup. The nightmare was about to begin, and it had nothing to do with the bus. I loaded one motorcycle in the back of the truck (the other I would ride home on trip number three) along with six bus batteries--two new 8-D’s for the GM4905 (each weighs and much as a Volkswagen), and four batteries for the RTS--, as well as anything else that would fit in the remaining space. Onto a U-Haul tow dolly went a very heavy, full-sized Chrysler minivan, a car I gave to my son because he’s now in a rock band and has lots of amps to transport. At his request, we towed his car because the Impala has an iPod connection so his Heavy Metal tunes can be played through the car stereo. I mean, would a kid be caught dead on the highway without his iPod blasting? More to the point, would any kid be caught anyplace at anytime without an iPod, period? "Like, no way, dude!" So, I towed the Chrysler, our return vehicle, and my son drove the Impala. Here’s the real question: Have you ever driven a wildebeest? If you have, it probably didn’t go well. You might even have jumped off, grabbed a gun and shot yourself in the head for even trying. I’m glad I don’t own a gun; I would have used it, if not on me, then on my truck. With all that weight on the back causing it to be very light on the front, it went total wildebeest on me. Oh my god! Then, before we got as far as Tucson, the Impala broke down. Well, at least one thing went right: We just happened to have a tow dolly. So we switched cars and continued on. Wildebeest go this way. No, this way. No, this way. Wildebeest, NO! STOP IT! Wildebeest! I’ve never had a more unpleasant driving experience in my entire life. Five hours of grueling drudgery. I am so convinced now that, because I am a seasoned wildebeest driver--with a completely safe wildebeest driving record, thank you--, I must necessarily be the best driver in the whole world. OK, you try it. Back in Phoenix and over the next week, that gnawing feeling about the bus breaking down wouldn’t let up. After that horrifying wildebeest junket, I should not have worried--what could possibly be worse than that? Nothing is the correct answer. And nothing it was. Ready to go, round two. I freaked-out my son by starting the engine while standing outside the bus. He saw me stick my arm through the little sliding window by the driver’s seat, somehow causing the bus to roar to life. “Sweet! How’d you do that?” “Magic,” I told him. And magic it was. About the bus, though, I have nothing to report. (!) It simply did what it does extraordinarily well: arrive me at my destination dependably, reliably and totally in awe, without giving me the slightest reason to worry. So, maybe all that gnawing wasn’t really about the bus. Maybe it had more to do with the ‘pink slip’. Safely at home in the Middle of Nowhere, I only have one thing to worry about: Saturday. Because everyday is Saturday. New Yorker, anyone? R Terry | ||
| Buswarrior (Buswarrior)
Registered Member Username: Buswarrior Post Number: 1542 Registered: 12-2000 Posted From: 76.66.17.6  Rating: N/A |
GET 'R DONE ! happy coaching! buswarrior | ||
| Clint Hunter (Truthhunter)
Registered Member Username: Truthhunter Post Number: 116 Registered: 1-2009 Posted From: 24.129.235.190  Rating: N/A |
& have a good friday, even if it is always Saturday for you! | ||
| ED Hackenbruch (Shadowman)
Registered Member Username: Shadowman Post Number: 115 Registered: 11-2003 Posted From: 174.145.207.240 Rating: N/A |
I have about 7-8 months of nothing but Saturdays each year. I love them. :>) On monday i start work again. :>( Only good thing is that i know that sometime around Oct, or Nov. at the latest, i will get my Saturdays again. ( when i work i usually work 6 days a week ). Could be worse though i suppose, a friend of mine won the lottery 21 years ago. As he told me a couple of years later "retirement is not all it is cracked up to be......after all you never get a day off." I really had to restrain myself from inflicting bodily injury on him. :>) | ||
| Jack Conrad (Jackconrad)
Registered Member Username: Jackconrad Post Number: 1007 Registered: 12-2000 Posted From: 71.3.75.244  Rating: N/A |
Now that we are retired, Paula asked "What are you going to do today?" I replied "Nothing". She said "That is what you did yesterday" I replied "I didn't get finished yesterday" Jack | ||
| Kasse Weikel (More_s_than_as)
Registered Member Username: More_s_than_as Post Number: 4 Registered: 4-2009 Posted From: 71.84.122.200 Rating: N/A |
Great story! my bus starts right up with only two wussy HD truck batteries in it (like tacoma and ranger trucks). im not on the saturday plan yet but im working hard to get there. | ||
| Jim Gibson (River_rat)
Registered Member Username: River_rat Post Number: 8 Registered: 1-2009 Posted From: 75.95.96.192 Rating: N/A |
Randy, I've got about a year of retirement now, and I just plain love it! It took me about 3 months of withdrawl and the feeling of not being needed, but it then turned into "I really don't care anymore - I can do whatever I want now!" Having a project like the bus will fill countless hours, and having the ability to get together with others that have week-days off is a blessing. You do loose track of time - I am always asking "what day is it? - but thats the blessing! Saturdays are great - ENJOY every single one of them! Jim |
