You know you are having a terrible week when not one but both of your pick-ups are destined for the junkyard.
My old Nissan pick-up, I can understand. It had 260,000 miles on it and it had been around the block a time or two. I used it as my wood truck and for pulling in my dock and for other things like pulling my other cars out of deep snow. It was like a farmer’s old workhorse. It just kept going on and on and on and it was proud to be of service. It never complained; it actually seem to thrive on neglect.
Both of my kids learned how to drive in the old Nissan and they were proud they knew how to use a stick shift before most of their friends. It served our family well.
When the fuel pump went out and the cost of repair turned out to be more than what it was worth, I decided that the old workhorse was ready for pasture. In this case, I gave it to a teen-age boy who will have fun tinkering with it and he claims he can get some more miles out of it. I say, “Go for it.” The old Nissan will be proud to serve you too.
The other pick-up was a 1994 Toyota. It was my son’s vehicle and he has been storing it with us while he attended college. I gave him a Ford Focus to use, which got better mileage. So what happened to the Toyota? While taking a load of garbage to the transfer station, it started to make a strange noise, kind of like a death rattle. The mechanic said something about a bearing in the engine. It was inoperable.
I have been trying to think what I did the past several weeks to deserve such bad luck. I was reminded of the story about the old guy who recently married. Within a week he lost his house to foreclosure but his wife was right at his side when he met with the bank. Shortly after this, he was fired from his job and there was his new bride right at his side. A couple of days later he was hit by a car and when he woke up in the hospital, there sat his wife. “I’m right here for you,” she said. He sat up straight, looked her in the eyes and said, “You know, I think you bring me bad luck.”
Was my wife the cause of my bad luck? No, I don’t think so. In fact she said it was just nonsense when I told her that recently whenever I turn on the Twins’ game, the opposing team will get some hits, score several runs and take the lead. Now that the Twins are inching closer to first place, I hesitate to turn them on for fear I will be the cause of their demise and I will lament about this over the entire winter thinking they stunk because I watched them.
What did I do? I have, on occasion, I confess, been fishing with two lines, which is not legal during the summer. My luck fishing has been so terrible I figured that if I try one kind of bait on one line and another kind of bait on the second line, I might be able to figure out what’s going on with those fish. When I learned their bait of choice, I would then fish with just one line. I have been toying with the idea of trying three lines. Would my motor then drop into the lake?
The other day I was talking to a Lutheran Pastor about the changes in the ELCA church regarding their acceptance of gay clergy. As an ELCA member, I welcomed the new policy. Should I have not welcomed the new policy?
I have been listening to and reading some of the tributes paid to the late, great Walter Cronkite. What a man! One of the persons paying tribute to him told of a story that happened within the past year or two regarding Cronkite. It seems that he and his wife invited Walter and his wife to dine with them in some fancy New York restaurant. When they sat down to eat, Walter sat with his back to the rest of the diners. When he rose to leave, people began to notice who was in the room. As Walter left, people began standing up—first one, than another and another. Before he left the restaurant, all were standing; there was no applause; they all just stood in respect for this great man.
The man who was telling the story, said they stood because they all knew a real gentleman was leaving the room. Walter Cronkite, more than anything else, was a gentleman.
There are lots of things that I could do that would bring me closer to being a gentleman but I don’t think I have it in me. A gentleman, for example, would never drive the old pick-up that I was driving and if he did, he would probably wear a nice work shirt with a tie and make certain his hair was combed.
My wife commented the other day that the walking shorts I was wearing were all wrinkled and that I should probably change them to go to a church board meeting. I kept them on. Walter Cronkite would never do that. He would wear at least a sport coat. I thought about wearing a sport coat but how would that look with shorts?
Maybe if I were more of a gentleman, my luck would be different. Maybe I am being sent a message by some force out there that says I should clean up my act a little.
With winter months approaching and a certainty of deep snow, I find myself without a four-wheel drive vehicle to get out of our long Lake Julia driveway. If my luck continues, I may not see the lights of Bemidji for six months. That would be bad luck but not as bad as losing your pick-up.
Who Is John?