Sliding Into Third

Remember Little Red?


The Little Red Car, that is ... our faithful companion over the past several years ... and 120,000-plus miles, now ... always ready to pop a wheelie and be off on some new adventure ... the little car that, no matter how far we strayed from the beaten path, always found a way to get us safely back home.


That’s the one.


Little Red always found a way to share the road with the BIG GUYS ... (some of which had tires bigger than all of Little Red) ... without being overly aggressive. 


Little Red, in fact, was always being passed by somebody ... a semi ... a school bus ... kids on roller skates ... a bicyclist ... certainly a motorcyclist ... because Little Red agreed with me that speed limit signs are just that ... signs that indicate the safe LIMIT ... not a suggested speed ... but a SAFE, LEGAL UPPER LIMIT ... whether in school zones with the amber lights flashing ... or in a quiet neighborhood where kids are about.


And stop signs ... Little Red had become convinced that a certain four-letter word ... S-T-O-P ... meant just that: To cease forward motion ... not to go rolling through while talking on the phone or sipping that morning coffee ... and certainly not just to slow slightly, then zip on through.


I don’t know how many times Little Red almost got rear-ended while in the process of obeying STOP signs ... RED LIGHTS, too.


Oh, Little Red was a stubborn cuss.


I know, I’ve been using the past tense in recounting some of Little Red’s character traits ... as though Little Red weren’t with us any more.


Never fear ... Little Red is still here ... going on 13 now ... approaching those difficult teen years ... but still here.


I recently had some doubts, though.


It began as a sort of hiccup ... you know, a brief, but noticeable interruption ... like a hiccup ... of the engine’s steady hum.


I think I was backing out of a tight parking space when I first noticed it. I didn’t think too much about it ... might have been my unsteady foot on the gas pedal.


But it wasn’t long after that when Little Red started sneezing ... particularly when it was time to bed down Little Red for the night in that magnificent building on the rear portion of Brimm Manor.


Some nights Little Red did an imitation of a bucking bronco as we approached the yawning door to Little Red’s nighttime abode. There were some nights when we wondered if we should just give in and leave Little Red in the driveway.


But we didn’t. Oh, we have, on occasion ... but then we wake up in the wee hours ... remember that we left Little Red out ... and swear to ourselves that we hear Little Red whimpering.


Finally, though, we decided we had to do something ... for Little Red’s peace of mind ... and ours. 


That happened at a traffic light. Remember? Little Red and I stop when the light turns red ... and we don’t resume our forward motion (unless we’re doing one of those ... perfectly legal in Ohio ... right turns on red, after stopping, then checking for oncoming traffic, of course).   


This time we had stopped behind two other cars which were signaling that they were going to turn left ... so we sat and sat, waiting to make our right turn. As the light turned green and we all started moving ... Little Red started wheezing ... and sneezing ... coughing and sputtering like I’d never heard before.


It was a horrible scene.


Just about half way through the turn, we came to a sudden halt ... instrument lights came on ... some of which I don’t believe I’d ever seen before ... I couldn’t turn the steering wheel ... couldn’t do anything. We were dead in the water.


Fortunately, the driver behind me ... also in the process of making a right turn ... was watching ... and he or she managed to avoid running into us ... sat for what seemed an eternity for me, but must have been only a couple of seconds ... while I restarted Little Red and we were all on our way again.


I must say that Little Red had been running fine on the streets and highways ... except at traffic lights and stop signs ... a sure sign of rebellion, I suppose ... but I wasn’t about to start running stop signs and red lights, just to please Little Red and avoid a little rough idling. 


There was a time when I would have gotten out a pocket full of tools and set about solving the problem ... or not. But not this time. We took Little Red in for professional counseling.


Turns out the problem was a hose connecting the gizmo and the central thingamajig. The hose cost about a dollar ... labor? Well, that was about fifty bucks ... but they didn’t charge us for the diagnostics ... this time.


Little Red is running fine now, thank you very much. 


I’m the one who has to adjust. You see, I had gotten into the habit of shifting into neutral at every stop ... and I still do that sometimes now. No problem, really, if I can just remember to shift back into DRIVE before I mash the gas pedal.


Oh, for the good old days of the standard shift and the clutch pedal, right? ... and, of course, the dimmer switch on the floor. 


-S&G-


NOTE from LOREE (Kansas) provides a link to the latest page on her site. The graphic is a photo taken by her middle son, Steve Marler, on one of his hikes into a remote area. He loves doing that with his camera along, Loree adds ... and I think the graphic shows that, too.


The link:


http://www.poetrybyloree.com/422.html


-S&G-


TODAY’S POEM: Don't worry. I'm not about to slide into third base ... or even run the bases, for that matter. Not even slowly. Still, my  imagination which was stirred by the warm spring breezes, the proximity of a playing field, the sun on my back. So here’s the poem, originally published in Potpourri:




SLIDING INTO THIRD


Sometimes,
when I’m walking past
the empty field,
I’m tempted
to go legging it
around the base paths,
sliding into third,
maybe stealing home,
but then I think
about getting caught
in a run-down
between second
and third, cut down
trying to extend
a beseeching leg
to hook the refuge
of that dusty bag,
and the vision
of that humiliation,
the disgrace of being
the winning run
tagged out, finished,
game over, is more
than I can chance.
Still, on one of my
better days,
I just might try it.




-S&G-


COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 


Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to


rbrimm@peoplepc.com


... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)


-S&G-


Oh, and if you’d like to see what’s up with my other ... DAILY blog ... here’s a link to it:


http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/


Thanks for paying a visit.




-S&G-


UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!


-S&G-
© 2009