THAT'S LIFE
True story – I am the proud owner of two automobiles.
Before you start thinking that having two vehicles is a sign of wealth and indulgence, let me introduce them to you. Both are very old, and both were used when I got them.
Frank is my 1997 Ford pickup truck, and Georgia is my 2012 Porsche Boxster. I still think of them as my new cars, and hope I never have to part with either one. Frank was my first BIG truck. He’s an F-250 and can pull a loaded horse trailer.
I have so many great memories of road trips with trusty Frank. During one trip in particular, we were headed back from a 3 day eventing show in Wellington, Florida, on the toll road. Toll roads are nice when there’s no traffic, but the problem is that there’s a whole lot of nothing on the turnpike. The yellow low-fuel light had been on for a while, and we were discussing a plan should we run out of gas. Running out of gas on the turnpike with a horse in the trailer was not something we wanted to happen, but just in case, we worked out who would stay and who would go for gas. But Frank got us to the filling station … crisis averted.
Then there was the year of the wildfires, and we had to evacuate the horse stables. Frank was the only truck with a hitch and four-wheel drive. Trip after trip through the sugar sand, delivering horses from the stables and out of harm’s way, Frank saved the day and carried the horses to safety.
Georgia got her name from our first road trip—and my great grandma. I always thought I would have a daughter named Georgia. The next best thing was naming my dream car after my beloved grandma. Georgia was a gift for my fiftieth birthday. Say what you will about midlife crises clichés. I don’t care. Georgia strikes the perfect counterpoint to Frank.
Hindsight says I should have known it would be a difficult day. It began when I had to use the COVID toilet paper. You know … the emergency-use-only roll that sits on the bottom shelf. The paper is so thin that it takes a whole wad to amount to anything. Well today— through no fault of mine, I’m sure—we ran out of the good stuff, and I had no other choice but to use it and not let it ruin my day. COVID toilet paper is certainly better than no toilet paper.
With time to spare, I loaded my bag for work, although it’s really more the size of a suitcase. A good friend had a beautiful bag I had been lusting after for a while, so I added the bag to my Christmas list … and received it. Somehow, my bag seems much larger than her bag. Anyway, with a full suitcase and time to spare, I headed out the door to work. I have to park on the street when at work, and after hearing tales of weekly sideswipe incidents, I drive Frank. He is much more visible than Georgia, and hopefully easier to avoid while parked along the street.
Frank starts right up, but then the gear shift is sloppy and loose. We aren’t going anywhere. No problem … all I have to do is reattach the cable to the lever on the transmission. I slide under the truck, locate the part—it looks just like it does on the video—refasten the cable and move Frank out of the driveway, where he was blocking Georgia in the garage. The whole process took less than thirty minutes.
Enjoying my truck repair success high, I begin to transfer my suitcase from Frank to Georgia when I discover that Georgia’s interior is covered in mold! Not just the smell of mold, but a layer of fuzzy yellow, sometimes gray, sometimes brown mold. I immediately remember the last time Georgia and I went for a joy ride and got caught in the rain. As soon as the rain started, I headed for home and parked Georgia safely in the garage and didn’t think any more about it … until now.
Don’t you hate it when people tell you how bad their day was? When they go into numbing detail about how hard they have it? While listening to all that whining and complaining I’m usually tempted to come up with an even more dramatic story, and the exchange can go on and on.
Well, let me assure you that this is not a story about one unusually bad day, so don’t let your mind wander to all your terrible, horrible, really bad days. This is a story of just one regular day—a day that reminds me of one of my favorite quotes by Truett Cathy, “Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it.”
So, when remembering that day, I say…That’s Life!
