No pun intended, but what a “vas deferens” a day makes.
I had put in good morning proofreading the Winter issue of the American Aviation Historical Society Journal before setting out in the afternoon to deposit the rent check and renew my license plate registration. It was a sunny day in the 40s, and though I would rather have been working for money, I was enjoying the day.
That was until I put my key into the ignition and all I heard in response was a mournful clicking sound, the plaintive complaint of a dead battery. DANG. But not a big deal. One reason I love living in the central city ss that I can walk to my bank, about a block point five from mon casa. So I did. Any other time I would have considered returning home after that. Since, howeverly, I had my license plate renewal form in my pocket, and since the Secretary of State’s office was only a mile away, I decided to hike on over and take care of that. It was sunny, I had my Animal Protective League sweatshirt on under my leather jacket, and I had a zong in my hot. Normally I never wear sweatshirts when engaging society, but since my jacket covered it, I had been okay with the idea as I left the house earlier. The exquisite irony of my WALKING to the facility to renew my automobile license plate was also too profound to ignore. I truly enjoyed the hike, light wind in my face inbound, knowing it would be at my back when I returned ‘om’.
The pain in my left foot was not a problem until the last four blocks. I’ve walked enough to know I had a blister happening down there, and by the time I turned onto my street, I was limping. Also on my mind was the task of calling a friend to jump my car after they came home from work and hopefully before they sat down to dinner. DINNER! I was down to my last two packets of Ramen noodles and lunge meat. I had been on limited coffee since Saturday. I needed to grocery shop!
That Big Social Director in the Sky was reading my mind. As I approached my front yard, the boyfriend of the resident who lives upstairs was coming out the front door. “Hey (I’ll call him) Lafcadio, can you give my battery a fast jump?” And he did! Less than five minutes later, I was sitting in my car listening to Steve Cochran on WGN and letting the enjyne idle for five minutes to build up a battery charge. I could not just put the car into neutral and pull up the parking brake. That hasn’t worked since 2005. At 3:40, I turned off the motor, left it in first gear, rolled the driver’s side window down so I could reach inside and open the door again (outside door handles haven’t worked since 2003) and affixed my new license sticker to the rear plate. SUCCESS!
I limped like a wounded soccer player down every aisle at Schlep ‘N’ Save. I was warm and glad to have food cash in hand. Bouyed by my rare, beneficent circumstance, I went crazy at the grocer and bought two cans of chili besides Ramen noodles and lunchmeat for a week. By the grace of God I also replenished my coffee and iced tea mix. I even bought some COMTREX Cold/Flu to help with my nose which was in “high drainage mode.” It was a discontinued item on sale. I will never again buy discontinued medicine to save a few pesos. Apparently the active incredients in the tabs had been discontinued as well. Honest to Gosh, if the Pakistanis kept their nuclear (newkewlar if you flat earthers prefer) assets as securely as those cold tabs are packaged, those humorless terrorists would never be able to threaten the safety of the free wild. But I digress.
Home again — YES TOM WOLFE, YOU CAN GO HOME AGAIN — I doffed my left sock and found a red-blood-filled blister the size of an old half dollar next to a quarter on my foot. It’s okay. There was no pain. But I was glad it was where I would not have to look at it again unless I really wanted to.
All day Tuesday was devoted to more Journal proofreading, an eight hour saga of reading, red pen underlining and circling, sneezing, blowing, sniffling, wiping eyes and typing notes . . . . until I had done all I could.and sent it to Journal editor exraordinaire. THANK GOD my Internet capacity had come back late Sunday! I had really been “Mr. Party Pooper” over that lamentable blow. And I had taken it all personally of course, blaming it on agents of the deceased and unmissed Henry Hyde, the flat earthers and Trent Lott. I could have filled my freaking bath tub with the effluent that came out of my nose between 9 a and 7 p Tuesday!
But why bother?
Today’s much better: de code haz quested and I’b aCHOOally breeding fom by dose. The blood-engorged blister has subsided in depth, and I’m sure it’s healing nicely. Just sent off more proofreading comments to Southern California (where it never rains if you remember the tune). Spent most of today updating AeroKnow and now am preparing to spend more time with a book proposal, no kidding.
I received a terrific e from an internationally-known publisher asking me to write a book about . . . . . well I can’t tell you now. If I did, they’d have to kill me and worse, I’d forfeit the writing gig. I will tell you more ASAI can. In the meantime I have to finish that rather long — but very interesting — proposal form. Once that’s done, they’ve promised me a contract. Look for and update here in about three weeks.
Live long . . . . . . and proper.
