CAR FEVER

  Sickness is at hand. So many “bugs” and viruses are in the air that almost all of us will at some point succumb to the effects of them. Covid, no matter how many people deny its existence, still hits folks to varying degrees. I’ve had a couple of bouts with the virus myself in the fall. Fortunately, the flu hasn’t attacked nor has the stomach bug nor has the bronchitis.  

I have been infected with a different kind of bug. It’s called the “new car bug.” The fact that I am ill with this affliction is really my wife’s fault. We have talked about cars on occasion, but recently, she suggested I should begin to look for the kind of vehicle I would like to have. By new car, I mean a used car with low mileage. My vehicle now has 160,000 miles on it, and that means things been to break, wear out, or fall off. I have the best mechanic in the world, but the worry of what will hit next stays in the back of my mind.  

I didn’t need to give a second thought about what which car I should turn my attention. We are a Nissan family and have been when they were call Datsuns. In 1987, I bought a Pathfinder, and only in the last month has it left the family. Presently, I drive a 2011 model, and upgrade to “bare bones” one I bought almost forty years ago.  

I like my present car. It has leather seats that hold up much better than the plastic ones in the old car. The air conditioning functions, as does the radio. It’s the little things that mean so much to me. The 2011 also has three rows of seats, although the back row has only been used by us one time. The back-up camera is a nice feature, especially since my neck is much too stiff after having had surgery several years ago to place screws, bone, and metal in place of a ruptured disc.  

This new vehicle will be a 2022-2025 Pathfinder. One huge reason for choosing this SUV is that I struggle to get down into and up out of sedans. I need something that allows me to open the door, step out and be on my feet at once. 

Another reason for a Pathfinder is that I haul wood for projects in the car. The interior is covered so that no tears or scuffs are inflicted. I also have to have a tow package to pull the trailer that hauls lawn mowers and mulch and all sorts of things. Of course, I still need to learn the tricks of backing the trailer into spaces. People who’ve watched me attempt this feat leave shaking their heads or laughing until they cry. 

I don’t like driving a dirty car and take opportunities during winter and early spring to wash and vacuum it. I also keep a coat of wax or some other product on the car to prevent damage to the paint from dust, tree sap, and bird poop.  

I’m rather sick right now with this car fever. I’ve found no less than half a dozen Pathfinders in which I’m interested. However, Amy tells me the earliest we will begin the search is April 1. To me, telling me to begin a search and then delaying the purchase date is as close to malpractice as a wife can come. She knows how I obsess when she gives me the go ahead to look.  

At any rate, before long I might have a different car. Amy has the final say on every aspect of the car, especially the cost. Finding the right one might take a while, and that will drive me even deeper into the infection. My only prayer is that a Pathfinder is out there that will cure me of this sickness. I am not a good patient and have little patience when it comes to securing a new vehicle. I wish someone could come up with a cure for this illness. It already causes too much pain and suffering for us men. 

LONELY

 The human soul goes through a flood of emotions during this time on earth. They lead an individual to unmeasurable joy or insufferable sadness. Of all these emotions, perhaps none is as ravaging as loneliness. My life has been filled with love from wife, and Amy and I have spent the last 50 years in marital bliss. Our spats have been few, and some have been heated, but through it all, we’ve been together. The loneliness that I have experienced is from different sources. 

Loneliness is no stranger to any person who’s spent a few years on this planet. Children experience loneliness whenever their parents aren’t at home constantly. I remember the first time Amy and I went out for an evening after Lacey was born. Kate, our babysitter for that evening, was a pro at dealing with little ones. Yet, when we pulled out of the driveway, our last sight of Lacey was her face plastered to the living room window. She cried as if we’d abandoned her. She was fine, but her parents were crushed. We felt miserable the entire evening. Over our meal, we talked about Lacey, and the “date night” was cut short so that we could rush home to check on our child. Little did we know that our daughter would be a free spirit who couldn’t wait to separate from us and begin her college life.  

During high school, couples who break up can be subject to loneliness. I had enough experience with it as girlfriend after girlfriend called for an end to our dating. After spending so much time with a female, I found difficulty in filling my time. I wanted to make amends for my shortcomings with those girls so that we could once again become couples. Of course, no reunion ever occurred. For the longest time, I was lonely. Something in my being required the company of a girlfriend.  

Amy and I were separated for a few months. I moved back to Knoxville to begin my teaching career at Doyle High School, and she remained in Cookeville to attend classes at Tennessee Tech. The weeks were times of misery, and as soon as school ended on Fridays, I was speeding down Interstate 40 to see her. We both lived with our parents, but loneliness filled our hearts and minds, even though we were with family.  

Our son Dallas passed suddenly in September 2024. We were with him until the end, and we know that he is in a place in where his suffering is finished and that we will see him again one day. Still, the loneliness that hits without him being here is both emotionally and physically painful. His absence leads to tears, anger, and questions. The answers are something that will come after this time on earth. 

What I feel is loneliness. I miss his nightly phone calls. We discussed UT sports, politics, television shows, and other topics. Sometimes our entire conversations were nothing more than swapping jokes. Since he’d moved back from Chattanooga, our relationship had developed to the point that we were best friends. Our best times were spent sitting on the porch or cooling ourselves in the pool. We alternated days on which we played each other’s music.  

We’re not the first nor the last parents to lose a child. It’s not normal, not the way things are supposed to be. I’m especially lonely today, February 4. It’s his birthday.  

WATER

 This past Sunday, our minister gave the second in a series on the book of John. She discussed the significance of water for Christians and the many things for which it is a symbol. Of course, baptism is the most obvious one. After church, I began thinking about water and the modern world’s dealings with it. Before long, I realized that we as a world have much demand for the stuff and even more responsibility for keeping it safe.  

Back in the old days, those being the 1950’s and 1960’s, many of the homes around the area got water from wells. Somebody would come out and drill deep into the ground until “Eureka!” Water spurted out the top. Lines were run from the well to the house and water was readily available. I never lived a minute when someone had to walk to a common well, draw water from a well, and struggle to return with most of the contents of a bucket.  

At some point, WKUD began providing services for the local community. Mother walked to neighbors’ houses to persuade them to sign the petition to have the utility company begin business. Our water is hard, which means plenty of minerals are in it. Over time, lines that were once ¾ inches in diameter became pinholes sized, and the time had come to dig up the yard and install new pipes. Metal pipes weren’t that safe, but that’s what was available at the time. WKUD included fluoride to help keep teeth from suffering from decay, and some people swore it was a communist plot to kill us all. They were wrong. Neither was drinking from a hose such a bad thing. Children who had been banished to the yard until dark drank from hoses after games of baseball or football or hide-and-go-aseek. We lived without contracting some fatal disease from the rubber hoses.  

Today, water is “a thing.” Folks have bottles of water with them most of the time. Some people have scads of batter bottles or thermoses that they take to work, school, or physical activities. The plastic bottles are a scourge to the world. They don’t break down but develop mountains in inland areas and islands in the oceans, all of which adversely affect the environment. Remember the days of a common ladle from which everyone drank? Today, most people would be disgusted to think of using such a thing. Better to have millions and billions of plastic bottles than to share a cup with someone else. 

I don’t particularly like to gulp a glass of water. The taste isn’t all that off-putting, but the feeling of bloating from the stuff never has been pleasant. Evidently, the world is filled with water aficionados. These individuals supposedly have the ability to pick the best water, and just like wine tasting, they swirl, and sniff, and swish water after smelling it. Then they pronounce the best. Hey, when I mow the yard in the heat of summer, the best water in the world is any that is wet.  

For what seems to be my whole life, I’ve heard authorities say that we should drink more water. However, recently, somebody who has some new product has decided that humans drink too much and should switch to the new product being sold. I take their advice with a grain of salt, just like I do with the people selling all sorts of “miracle” products. I’m pretty sure in the evolutionary trail that our species spent time in the water. The liquid is the key to life. We can longer without food than without water. How amazing the cost of water is when it’s bottled and branded. Sure, some process to destroy bacteria and other harmful things takes place. Still, I laugh when people pay $1.00 or more for a resource that covers the majority of the planet. All I know is that the best water ever came from a rubber hose from which a line of Ball Camp boys drank during a timeout of a tackle football game in our yard.  

WE'RE MADE FOR KINDNESS

 Amy and I made plans for travel to a special destination for our 50th anniversary. Those plans melted in tears with the unexpected passing of our son Dallas in September. Since that time, we’ve become the owner of a second mid-sized canine. Harvey, whose name came from the hurricane that struck Texas, has been lost without Dallas, but he’s slowly coming around to become our dog. He is settled and has learned the routines.  

As for us, our lives have been a fog; so many loose ends need to be tied up, and we are still missing Dallas. The service for our son was a help in finding an end to all the pain.  What moved me was the kindness from so many people. 

Most of speakers on that day were folks with whom Dallas went to school. Each spoke of my son’s kindness. They said he put others before himself and was always ready to come to their aide should the situations arise. 

Our former church family also were in attendance. Friends and adults who were mere children the last time we saw them were there for us. They remembered Dallas as a child and found his death hard to believe. 

The members of Beaver Ridge United Methodist Church filled the sanctuary. I attended this church as a child and returned to it when First Christian Church closed its doors. Some of the members at BRUMC I’ve known for years; others are new to me. What I do know is that the love and kindness that they poured out to Dallas was touching. The love and kindness they gave to Amy and me was overwhelming. These people mad our grief easier to bear. Some had lost children of their own and knew exactly how much we suffered. Gage Sharp sang and Paula Helton played the piano, and their music helped those in attendance to release the tears, pain, and loss they had held in. One man dedicated a poem to Dallas, and with tears in his eyes, he said that he’d met Dallas as he worked the dish room on Wednesday evenings. He added that Dallas made everyone feel like a friend.  

My extended family were present. Jim’s clan sat close to us, and my late brother’s wife and friend sat close by. Most surprising, my nephew Steve and his partner Charlotte made the trip from Atlanta for the service. He and Dallas had met not long ago and had discovered they shared a unique sense of humor. Steve is a professional singer with numerous awards to recognize his talent; Dallas couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. Yet, they stayed in close touch. 

Dallas’ high school friends and one of my two best friends (Billy Hayes) were present to remember him. Amy and I learned that he’d reconnected with some of them. Their stories surprised us and left us smiling with the thoughts of how our son had lived his life and loved the people who were in it.  

Even friends from his work were there. His bosses showed up, and folks in California, Maine, and other far away states with whom he worked sent sympathies and watched the service on the church website.  

Over the months since Dallas passed, Amy and I have re-discovered something. Most people in this world are good folks who are kind. They show their “true selves” in the middle of tragedies. The little piece of God in each human comes to the forefront when situation demands. Nothing else manners, whether it be political views, sexual orientation, or color of skin. We’re made to be kind and loving. Somehow, life goes on and makes us forget what we were made to be. I’m thankful for the many people who have let the light of something big inside shine on Amy and me. The presence of it reminds us that we know where our son is and with whom he now and forever shall live.