The sweater was the least of my concerns

Yesterday, after a great time with the Awesomes, we drove them to our now go-to cheap airfare airport, JFK, to send them on their way.  As the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML made our way back to our little corner of New England, and after losing count of the dead dear in Westchester County (it was NOT a good day for Bambi's kin to be playing a live version of Frogger), I saw a beautiful Porsche 911 Carrera speeding up the I-684.  Beautiful car driven, as expected, by a middle-aged dude who was seriously overcompensating.  The fact that I overtook him in my OMC (Old Man Car) was reason enough why he shouldn't have had such a nice car, but I digress.  Anyway, it took me back to my own experience behind the wheel of a Porsche - settle in as this is a long one.

It was Thanksgiving 1984.  I was in college and I was at the peak of my college freshman, overconfident hubris.  That hubris occasionally blinded me from satire, including "The Official Preppy Handbook."  I embraced plaid and Izod's with a fervor reserved for deathbed conversions, although I never went so far as to run around with my collar turned up.  I mean, c'mon, I had standards.  I had just flown back to Utah that Sunday after Thanksgiving and had been tasked with returning to the Salt Lake Airport that night to pick up a girl that I had been on again/off again dating.  Said girl had a Porsche 924 that she had foolishly agreed to let me use to pick her up.  I was sans car that semester, thanks to my umpteenth ticket, so I had to use something to pick her up.  Why not the Porsche, I ask you?

I wasn't going to pick her up looking like a slouch, that is for sure.  While I wasn't wearing plaid, there was an argyle sweater vest, a pink shirt, and, wait for it, a Member's Only jacket involved.  And penny loafers. Paying no heed to the weather, I left Provo for Salt Lake City.  I should have paid attention, because a snow storm was developing very, very quickly.

Now would be a good time to remind you that I had grown up in the desert of Arizona and had driven in the snow, um, never.  And by never, I mean never.  This lack of experience was going to come to roost momentarily.

As soon as I was on the I-15, the snow storm had unleashed its fury.  I, again thank you hubris, ignored the slowing, cautious drivers around me, and sped on. Why not?  I was in a fine German driving machine.  Right  outside Orem, near Lehi, my stupidity got the best of me as I began to slide, ever so slightly.  My reaction was to slam on the brakes.  Said fine German driving machine instantly converted itself into a very heavy, and out-of-control sled.  I'm not sure how many times I spun around but I know what stopped me...the snow piled up on the median.  The car was still running as I sat there, stunned.  There was snow all over the hood and for some reason, I could not open the door.  Probably because I'd forgotten how.  So I opened the sunroof and crawled out.  No one was stopping to check on me, as, no doubt, they'd seen me blow past them earlier, and were thrilled to see I'd gotten what was coming to me.  There was a rest stop across the freeway and I made my way over to it, none to pleased to do so. Rest stops were more than a little unnerving.

Anyway, since this was in the pre-historic era before cell phones, I used the pay phone to call the Highway Patrol.  It took forever to get through because of the storm.  When I finally got to a dispatcher, I immediately launched into my story of woe.  The dispatcher asked if anyone was hurt.  I said no.  Wrong answer as the dispatcher said I was stuck since there were a lot more serious issues to be addressed.  I was stunned.  I told her, "I don't think you get it.  This girl's Porsche is stuck in a snow mound and I'm in an argyle sweater at a rest stop.  You need to send someone.  Now."  As I recall, she hung up in less than three seconds. The sweater should have been the least of my concerns.

Knowing I still had to pick this girl up, I did the only reasonable thing I knew to do. I called another girl I'd been on again/off again dating who had a 4-wheel drive and asked her to come pick me up and take me to the airport to pick up this other girl.  And she did.  Unbelievable.  In the meantime, while waiting for her to get to the rest stop, I'd called a tow truck, and we agreed that he'd meet me there later to get the car out of the ditch.  So, 4-wheel girl shows up, drives me to SLC, where I pick up the other girl and have to very deftly explain why we are going to be driven back to Provo by this other girl.  Incredulously, she was forgiving.  Whew!

It's been a long time since that happened.  I'm glad to report I've mastered driving in the snow.  I'm even more pleased to report that there are no Member's Only items in my closet.  But there are still some argyle sweaters.  Some habits die hard.

Getting Used to This

We've had a great Thanksgiving holiday here in New England. The weather has cooperated, with the air crisp enough to remind us that it is fall, but not cold enough to make us miserable. The turkey, which we smoked, a first here in the Den, was a success. Suffice to say, smoking the bird is how we'll be doing things in the future. It's been great to have Our Lady of Awesome and Awesome with us. We missed having CAL with us but are grateful she celebrated with friends and that she'll be home in a couple of weeks for the semester.

Black Friday wasn't terrible, at least for some of us. We only went to two stores before I lost the will to live. We were shopping for maternity clothes for Our Lady. That is a strange experience, can I just tell you? She doesn't look pregnant but she throws up like she is. Buying the maternity stuff certainly cements the fact that she is going to have a baby. I've got to get used to this.

The Boy had to work on Black Friday. He had to work retail at the near epicenter of Black Friday awfulness - Old Navy. During our maternity clothes excursion earlier that day we went into another Old Navy and it looked as if it had taken a direct hit from Superstorm Sandy. The Boy was in for it. Some of his texts once he got to work included:

Ugh!
Holy crap!
I'm quitting today. (This was sent about 20 mins. into his shift.)
Dying
I just quit (he didn't)
Seriously this store is a mess

The good news is is that he survived. He can now wear that as his own badge of courage since he faced down the thundering herds and lived to tell the tale.

On Saturday, we took the Awesomes to Boston. Although the sun was shining, the wind was far too reminiscent of our Chicago days, which meant it was dang cold. That didn't deter us from taking the ferry to see the USS Constitution and to marching all around the North End. We ate in Little Italy and braved the hordes at Mike's Pastry for cannoli, which was totally worth it. On our way home, I mentioned that the next time the Awesomes were in town that we'd have to go to NYC. I then said, since I'm trying to get used to the grandparent thing, that they would have a stroller in tow. The stunningly patient and mighty fine SML then said, "Well, they can go out to a show while in the city and Grandma and Grandpa can babysit." Without thinking, I said, "Why on earth would your parents be here?" "We're the grandparents now," she rightly said.

Seriously, I have got to get used to this grandparent thing. Sooner rather than later, preferably, because this is happening.

Thankful

It's Thanksgiving Day.  Millions of Americans are counting their blessings by overeating, drinking too much, and getting into fights (food/fist/knife to name a few) with family members who they haven't seen in a long time and who they don't like in the first place.  Isn't this a great country?

I am thankful for a country that pauses to remember its blessings in an orgy of overeating, all in preparation for two days of shopping and overspending.
I am thankful for a country that is more consumed by the liquidation of Hostess Bakeries and the potential demise of the diabetes-inducing Twinkie than they are about the near state of war in the Middle East between Israel and, well, everyone else.
I am thankful that I am able to turn off the TV when I want and do not have to be subject to the horror that is, and forever will be, the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and the cavalcade of the damned that are the lip-synchers (shame on you, Neon Trees!) on the floats.
I am thankful that the presidential elections only happen every four years.
I am thankful that I can load my iTunes with such a freaky array of music that when that catalog of music is uncovered in 100 years, people will say "What was going on with this one?"
I am thankful for a world that has given me so much to explore, especially its food.
I am thankful, eternally thankful, for a wife who is so patient with me and who has grown with me in a way that takes my breath away.
I am thankful for my three children who are growing into amazing adults.
I am thankful for a daughter who decided to run a 5K on the spur of the moment today.
I am thankful for a grandchild who joins the Den in May.
I am thankful that I am able to search, ponder, and pray and that I find answers.
I am thankful for good friends and for the good times we've had.
I am thankful for trials and tests.  I may not like them when I'm going through them but I like what I learn from those experiences.
I am thankful this day for all that I have.  I am humbled by what I've been blessed with in this life.  I am grateful.

Thank you to all of you who read the Den, who comment, and who, for whatever reason, like spending some time here.  I appreciate you.  I'll say it again, on this day of Thanksgiving, thank you.

Honoring Lincoln

What better way to celebrate finding out you are going to be grandparents than indulging in a movie wherein you know the central character is going to die?  Well, I'm certainly glad the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML decided to do that very thing this past Friday night.

We made our way to local cinemessplex to see Steven Spielberg's newest film, "Lincoln."  It was, in a word, amazing. Daniel Day-Lewis positively inhabits the role of Lincoln and brings our greatest president to life.  As I watched this movie, I couldn't help but think of the recent presidential election and what Lincoln would have thought of it.  I shudder in shame.

It's no secret that I'm fairly obsessed with Lincoln (editorial note - if you enter in 'Lincoln' into the search bar on the Den, you'll find something like eight posts so far about him) his leadership, his courage, and his humanity.  He was far from perfect but he he literally saved this nation.  This movie does an admirable, inspiring job of paying homage to the man. In one pivotal scene, one of my favorite speeches (I wrote about it here) that Lincoln gave, is recreated.  I'm going to cash in one of my Man Cards now and admit that it moved me to tears. It was incredible.

So if you've got a few hours to spare, go honor the man, and see this movie.  It beats the heck out of the drivel that is playing on the screen next door.  That's right, Barfing Breaking Dawn, I'm talking to you.