Yes, it’s late in the day and yet, no blog post. Mondays have a way of doing that to you.
OK, so I know it’s the holiday time of the year and it’s all lights and gifts and hustle and bustle of the season but you know, I still have very mixed feelings about the holidays.
Perhaps because my dad died 38 years ago on Dec. 16 when I was just a kid. Perhaps it’s a reminder that it’s a lonely, cold, hollow time of the year with memories like that. Perhaps the luster and twinkle of green and red tree lights, the smell of a fireplace log burning, the kid gifts, all of those things have been deflated like a balloon popped with a pin.
It could be the reminder that most of us are still struggling in a lousy economy, that people are still generally nasty, willing to give you a knock on the head for that elusive video game or toy they need to satisfy a whiny kid.
Basically it can leave you somewhat down in the dumps.
And then something good happens.
Yesterday I went to the Wawa to do the good husband thing and fill the air in one of the tires on the car my wife usually drives. Seeing that dash light on sent her into a panic.
So while finishing up, the stupid cast on the right wrist must have hit a button and wham — door shuts, engine is running and the door slams shut. Locked tighter than a drum.
Would there have been yet more reasons to hate the time of year? I was obviously angry, frustrated and wondered what else could go wrong. Then a man parked in a mini-van gets out of his vehicle and asks, “Hey, you OK? Can I help you some how?”
I told him what happened and he asked if I needed a lift. I told him I had another set of keys at home and he volunteered to drive me home and back so I could get my car.
I met his son and we chatted on the brief ride. He said he was doing the same thing for his wife — filling the mini-van’s tires — so he could relate. We talked about the Eagles and I confessed to him that one time I gave my wife grief for locking her keys inside the car and that I would immediately confess my snafu when she got home from work.
We got to my house, I grabbed my keys and he shuffled me back to the Wawa. I thanked him over and over again. Like a real boob, I forgot to ask him his name. I think it was the total embarrassment of doing something I had never done before.
But after I got out of the mini-van I thanked him again and wished him a Merry Christmas. I am guessing that’s what this time of year is about too. No expensive gift, no huge party, no car in the driveway with the huge red bow on its roof.
Just a ride. But a whole lot more.
— Andy Hachadorian