A PROPELLING NEW YEAR

Sitting in my office to write today, I suffer from another sinus infection that began during my trip to Cookeville over the weekend to spend New Year’s. I am just short of miserable, but my health is of little importance when it’s compared to the things that happened at the beginning of that holiday time.
Amy and I planned to leave Knoxville on Friday after she arrived home from work. We packed the car with our belongings and dog Snoop. I loaded my laptop into the car so that I could complete some writing, as well as some lesson plans and syllabi for the new semester’s classes. I also took a couple of books to read in case nothing entertaining was on television. Amy had purchased a gas grill to take to her mother’s new house. It didn’t have a gas tank, but I knew we could always get one later. I securely strapped the thing in with a set of bungee cords. Clothes, groceries, and other necessities loaded into a huge plastic container in the bed of the truck, we were ready for the one hundred mile journey.
Interstate 40 was busy, as we expected, but the traffic wasn’t heavy enough to cause me to maneuver constantly between lanes. Amy and I enjoyed the ride and conversation, and before I realized, we were nearly to Crab Orchard, one of the marking points I’ve used since my college days at Tennessee Tech in the 70’s. On a stretch of road between the Westel Road and Crab Orchard exit, I heard a commotion in the bed of the truck. I peered into to rearview mirror in time to witness the unmanned launching of our new grillear. It rattled for a couple of seconds, and then the bungee cords must have loosened. The grill scooted a short distance and then flew from the truck bed. A car behind us successfully swerved to miss this black missile.
As soon as I could, I pulled to the inside grass of the median. At the same time a semi-truck pulled to a stop on the outer shoulder of the road. I walked in the darkness along the inside lane of the interstate to see if I could remove what was left of the grill from the highway. Another truck sped down the road with sparks shooting from under its trailer; this driver evidently found another large piece of our newer cooker. I arrived at the launch site, but all I could see by the lights of streaking car lights were small strips of plastic and metal along the lanes. With a steady stream of vehicles passing, I realized that cleaning up the mess was impossible and turned to make my way back to the truck. Once safely in the cab, Amy and I said a prayer of thanks that the rocket shot from our vehicle injured that no one.
Shaken but undeterred, we continued on our trip. Upon arriving at the house, we noticed that two short, sharp beeps shot through the house approximately every ninety seconds. The new carbon monoxide alarm was at it again. I unloaded the car, and then dragged a stool to the unit. I saw a button that had two words: test and hush. I pushed this button, and as you might have guessed, I set off the alarm. It nearly deafened me, and poor Snoop took off running in search of a place to escape the painful noise. We finally stopped the alarm, but not quickly enough. The security company called, and although Amy assured them all was well, they were unable to prevent the fire department from coming. I was embarrassed for having caused the situation, so I hopped in the car and drove to a fast food restaurant to pick up our supper. However, the firemen were still at the house when I returned.
By the time they left, I was a nervous wreck. We ate our food, turned on the television for background noise as we read our books, and retired rather early that Friday evening. I awoke with my nasal passages and throat sore and my head congested. Over the next couple of days my ears stopped up as well. How could I complain? This temporary illness fit well with the rest of the events of a hellish weekend.
I am glad to be safe at home in my office. I don’t plan to travel to Cookeville for a while, at least not until I’m well. Most important, I won’t haul any more grills.