It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only....Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cties.
The Worst of times........................
It started off on Monday when I received an Email from my boss pointing me to a Weblink announcing our company was being acquired by my previous employer. The earth stood still. My relationship with my ex-employer didn't end in a hug fest and the likelihood of me being out of work was pretty high. Nevertheless, I had customers that needed me and problems to solve for them so as the tsunami flotsam was being swept to sea I collected my thoughts and proceeded.
It was not that we had idle time to kill, the week was going to be busy with personal items to deal with. Gibson, the FU Kid, was graduating Saturday in Stillwater and we were to transport him home after graduation and plop him on a plane to New York for a special business course. Logan was in transition from TCU as lack of funds and a change in major meant TCU was no longer his best choice for a college. He really wanted to go to Texas A&M but lacked the required courses so that week we were also headed to the TAMU BioMedical Engineering Department to see what we could do. We didn't have time to tarry on this as he was heading to Costa Rica in seven days for a six week emersion class in Spanish. Finally, Regan was trying out for the Country Western Dance team (Stampede) on Thursday which she had been practicing tirelessly for throughout the last few months.
The week progressed as usual. Thursday Logan and I went to Texas A&M to find out he simply couldn't get in, Regan found out just before Gibz's graduation ceremony that she didn't make Stampede, Jennie didn't get a serene, celebratory, Graduation Saturday afternoon with the children, and I was working all that afternoon disgourging the leftover funiture and cloths from my son's Animal House domicile at OSU. As the sun set on Saturday's events we had the token pictures taken, a loaded U-Haul enhanced Suburban, and a loaded Corolla ready for departure. The last thing to do was get gas and check the oil in the leaky Toyota. Whew what a week.
Things were settling down after about an hour when I got the call: the Corolla was making an awful sound. Gibson hadn't checked the oil before leaving and the car wasn't driving at all. He and Logan were pulled over to the side of the road about 10 minutes ahead of us and didn't know what to do next. Note this is the second engine he's blown out within a year. What frame of mind do I put myself in during those ten minutes ?
It seems there were three possabilities I could move to. I could swoop down like Christian Bale in "Batman Begins" when the bad guys are taking control of Gotham and dispense justice. I could suck it up and give the pep talk as Denzel Washington did in Remember the Titans when his starting quarteback went down and he had to put the blonde california "Dude" in his place. I could also enter with the mad musings about life which Hamlet did prior to his conversation with Ophelia. So many thoughts, so little time............
