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R TERRY (66.53.82.243)
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Votes: 0 (Vote!) | | Posted on Saturday, December 27, 2003 - 7:48 am: | |
Several years ago when I drove the “Salvage Yard on Wheels” home to Phoenix from Detroit, one of the windows in the front door flew off and disappeared into the cold Indiana night. Until Christmas Day of this year, I had no idea what a fortuitous moment that would be.
It all began last week when I let a dog in the house and wound up in the “dog house” myself.
It’s not uncommon for people to let certain “issues” brew until one day a seemingly innocuous incident causes all kinds of things to boil up to the surface and suddenly you find yourself confronted with a multitude of your sins, most of which you were unaware of. (Women may not know what I am talking about; men do.)
In this instance, a stray dog with no tags, running loose in the neighborhood, darted into the house when I stepped out to go to work. He was a very handsome, shorthaired Shep-mix, extremely friendly, and very happy to see me (probably happy to see anyone). I thought this wonderful dog was too good to get hit by a car and until we could find its owner, he would make a nice companion to the lonely resident pooch. (My concern about his getting hit by a car was not too unfounded: I actually hit a dog that same evening, a black Rottweiler chasing another black dog. It got up and ran away, dazed and confused and not running quite as well.)
During this wayward dog’s short visit, I drove down to San Simon to bring Mom up to Phoenix for Christmas. (My 4104 with the missing door window is parked in front of Mom’s house.) When I got back, the landlady from whom I room informed me that this so-called “wonderful dog” had torn down the Christmas tree, marked its territory by peeing on the Christmas gifts, dragged all kinds of personal belongings outside including her purse, demolished everything in the back yard, ate an entire bag of dog food, and chewed up or destroyed various other items inside the house.
Bad dog? No, bad me! This was my fault. Suddenly, my two motorcycles parked next to the house were no longer welcome. Neither was my truck. I also found out many other things about myself that I had not known. Quick to address these grievances, on Christmas Eve I rented a trailer and hauled both motorcycles down to San Simon.
Because of that dog, Christmas was going to be very different this year.
Before I left, I spent the day with the kids doing last minute shopping, wrapping of presents and having a nice little Christmas Eve dinner at their apartment. At midnight, their mom took them to Christmas Mass at their Catholic church; I was on I-10 with the motorcycles passing through Texas Canyon between Benson and Willcox. I arrived in San Simon at 1:30am Christmas Day.
Nobody was home, of course; Mom was already in Phoenix, shortly to have Christmas morning festivities with the rest of the family. The snag was I didn’t have a key to her house. I could get the spare key from the folks across the street (they keep one in case she gets locked out), but at 1:30 in the morning on Christmas day, is that really a good time to wake people up? Maybe if you’re Santa.
Not to worry. Right there in front of the house, plugged into an outlet on the patio, is the big monstrosity affectionately known as the Salvage Yard on Wheels, the perfect place for me to stay! With Mom not there, why I would I need to get in the house anyway? Would it be to get the key to the bus?
That would be an excellent reason! Locked out of the house, locked out of the bus, nobody home, 37 degrees outside in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night… a dog got me into this… MERRY CHRISTMAS!!
It could be worse, I suppose. But I never replaced the window that blew off the bus in Indiana. Instead, I had a piece of Plex cut in two sections so I could fit them into the window channel without having to use any molding, a temporary fix that still persists. At that moment, I couldn’t have been happier about that arrangement.
I peeled off the tape holding the two pieces together, removed the bottom section, reached in and unlocked the door from the inside. Home at last! Home at last.
Christmas Day this year was unlike any I had ever experienced. I slept in the bus until almost noon, uninterrupted by anything or anybody. The constant din of truck tires heard rolling down the Interstate had nearly stopped. No trains roared through town with their horns blaring. There were no sounds of cars passing by and no TVs or radios could be heard. The wind was calm, the sun was warm, and the air was cool and refreshing. Outside, I stood next to the bus and marveled at the quiet serenity of it all. Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
This may be as close as it gets to Peace on Earth.
R TERRY |
Robert Wood (Bobwoodsocal) (4.63.41.14)
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Votes: 0 (Vote!) | | Posted on Saturday, December 27, 2003 - 1:13 pm: | |
cool story. bad dog! all the best, Bob |
R TERRY (207.230.142.240)
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Votes: 0 (Vote!) | | Posted on Sunday, December 28, 2003 - 6:55 pm: | |
Thanks, Bob!
The best to you, too. And Happy Holidays to all.
Randy |
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