I have never liked being told what to do. When I was perhaps
four or five I decided it would be a good idea to “wash” my father’s brand new
car with sand. I had a grand time “helping” him. I wasn’t alone. Another
neighborhood boy had the bright idea first and lured me in. Just imagine the
moment my dad saw what we’d done. He was a gentle guy, but on this occasion he
couldn’t even talk to me. He just handed me off to my mother. For the rest of
that car’s life, it had swirls in the paint. It wasn’t malicious on my part. I
didn’t really understand what I was doing. Still, I’m sure that was little
comfort to my dad.
Today, I picked up a new car; new to me at least. Shiny red
and clean and reliable (I hope). I traded in our well-loved 2002 Jeep Liberty to get it,
and actually felt a little pang letting the Old Reliable go. It’s been a fun companion and
has seen a lot of Naylor road trips and good times. But these days I am on the
road a lot, and public speaking makes me feel anxious enough without the added
worry of whether my car will make it.
As I was driving it out of the lot I was being extra careful
with it, sort of the way I drove for the first time with my newborn daughter in
the car. I’m sure that feeling will wear off quickly. But it reminded me a lot
of a fellow I used to work with who, first thing every morning, dumped a half a
cup of coffee all over his desk “just to get it over with.” Perhaps I should
just go out there and ding it…just to get it over with. Perhaps not. I’m sure
it will happen soon enough, with or without my help. Wish me happy trails!
No comments:
Post a Comment