As inevitable as a deer in the headlights

It was bound to happen. That’s what inevitable means, right? Synonyms from my Word 2007 list include to be expected, to be anticipated, unavoidable, certain. Eventually it was bound to happen. As in the recent movie Avatar – because of a very predictable story line, not unlike a combo of Dances with Wolves, A Man Called Horse, and the animated Pocahontas – some of the good guys were bound to get killed. The only questions were who, when, and how. It was as inevitable as kryptonite having a harmful effect on Superman’s powers.

So it was this holiday season. We’ve been driving the curvy, hilly roads of southern Middle Tennessee for the last 12 years and have had some close encounters with raccoon, possum, skunks, and even the dogs allowed to run free or dumped along the highway by neglectful owners. With the proliferation of deer in dem dere hills, it was inevitable that someday one would appear in our headlights. So it was that on Sunday, December 27, at about 6:30 p.m., my wife and I were concluding a 13½ hour road trip from our grandsons’ home in Texas. We had to get home and do our laundry after 10 days and over 2,500 miles of visiting with three of our four children’s families, their combined managerie of two dogs and four cats, and all four grandchildren in three different states celebrating one college graduation and two Christmases (only very special people – they’re called grandparents – get to double up on those). We were catching a plane the next afternoon for Massachusetts to ring in the New Year with our only remaining unvisited daughter’s family and her one dog and three cats. It was inevitable that something would slow our plans. Fortunately they weren’t derailed.

The inevitability is more apparent in the realization that bad things always happen in groups of three. At least that’s what I’ve always heard – though I couldn’t point to the scientifically-based research to support that adage. Additionally, bad things happen to good people – and my wife is the best person I know. So let me explain the three bad, similar things that happened on this trip and you be the judge.

The first occurred as we were within 50 miles of our twin grandtoddlers (15 months old) in New Mexico. I was driving and my wife was dozing in the front passenger seat. All of a sudden we were bombarded by several (6-10 although it all happened so quickly that I didn’t get an accurate count) small birds. They had been zooming above the highway, darting hither and yon as birds will inevitably do on a cool, windy, Texas afternoon. From the much larger flock – more than six geese, four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and that partridge in a pear tree all added together – several unexpectedly veered off from the main group and kamakazied into the front end of our Camry. We were peppered out of the blue. My wife was instantly startled from her napping exclaiming something like, “What was that?” When I explained that we had been attacked by something out of Alfred Hitchcock’s imagination, she was pleasantly amused. Eight days later that initial event of the threesome no longer seemed humorous; but, alas, it turned out that it was inevitable.

But I digress – if you’re still reading this, you may be thinking I digressed a long time ago (friends might suggest years or decades). The second bad thing happened on I-40 on our return to Tennessee. While listening to the final pages of John Grisham’s The Appeal on our car’s MP3 CD player, we were approaching and preparing to pass an 18 wheeler. A compact car had just passed us. Which of those two vehicles threw up the rock that struck the middle of our windshield with a pingy thud and left a spidery crack will always be a mystery. One thing I can say without fear of contradiction…that method of receiving broken car glass is inevitable unless one drives very slowly and only in the driveway. Even then eventually some pebble would be slung up by a passing vehicle and bounce its way to our car’s windshield. NOT! We park inside the garage where flying stones aren’t very numerous. My wife and I seldom hurl them at each other…at least not in the garage where windshields are in proximity.

Replacing the finally concluded Grisham novel – unhappy ending, Bah! Humbug! – with some contemporary Christian music for the last hour of a long daze road trip, we turned off I-40 at Exit 148 for the last stretch of the journey home. Five minutes later the landscape changed suddenly and, did I mention, inevitably? My wife was driving and, as we topped a rise, a small deer appeared frozen in the headlights of an oncoming car. It was doing its version of an ice-sculpture-imitation in the middle of our lane. It obviously didn’t see us until the close encounter with the front-end grillwork of our beautiful, blue 2007 Camry. Drive the Bambi-infested roads of southern Middle Tennessee at night with any frequency and this type of Close Encounter of the Third Kind is eventually inevitable.
So after keying a first draft of this experience – obviously inevitable – I will spend the morning taking my car wherever my State Farm agent tells me to take it and then packing for Massachusetts. I am convinced that the three bad things are behind us and the negative is no longer inevitable. Would that make it evitable? Yes, evitable seems to be a word according to my online Thesaurus. It means esquivable, previsable, salvable, declinable, or eludible. The last two of those dinosaur-generated synonyms I actually comprehend. So, although bad things may happen to good people – I’m going to stay really close to my wife – and negatives may come in threes, I’m going to exercise my ability to be declinable by eschewing dwelling on what may or may not be eludible on the final (bad word choice), round-trip trek of this holiday season. Was it Doris Day or Dinah Shore who sang decades ago “What will be, will be”? No use worrying about it, since it’s inevitable. Right? Indubitably! God, grand me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change…

'Tis the season...

I've been pondering what to blog for this Christmas season. I'm not sure I have a handle on that at all yet; but I've decided to just start and let the ramblings and meanderings fall where they may. How's that last sentence for an opening ramble?

Besides the main reason for the season, there are many other sidelights. This is the season for making memories and glad tidings. I'm grateful that one of our youth at church spoke last night in the short devotional message before Bible classes about gratitude and thanksgiving. He started with a semi-apology about knowing it wasn't Thanksgiving any more and then stated he was going to speak about that anyway. He reminded me of many parts of my life for which I shall be eternally grateful and thankful on a daily basis...

I turned 61 last Monday. Many haven't made it to that many birthdays. According to Dr. Josh Axe, if I eat and live right, I may make it to 60 more. Let's see...if I have great grandchildren at about age 75 and great great grandchildren at age 95, I could have great great great grandchildren by the time I'm 115. Dr. Josh seems to believe that I will even still have the energy to bounce them on my knees. That would be incredible. Hope my knees hold out.

I am blessed with absolutely the kindest, sweetest, and loveliest (inside AND OUTSIDE) wife God ever caused to be hooked up with a man. She is a great conversationalist, good listener and supporter, amazing teacher, marvelous mother, and perhaps the most incredible grandmother God ever bestowed on grandkids. Though by now you may be wondering...no, she isn't perfect. She truly acts her age but looks 15 years younger. For fear of retribution, I cannot state her # of years in this blog. I love you, darling! :)

I have four amazing children, all of whom are no longer children. They are all married to wonderful, Christian spouses. They support one another and strengthen each other in their daily walks with God. I like to imagine an augmented Footprints in the Sand poem in which there are mostly three sets of footprints trudging the roads of happy destiny together. Sometimes the prints decrease to two. It is at those times when Jesus carries one of them or perhaps I can imagine that He walks along beside holding the hand of the spouse who is carrying the other spouse. I love that image.

Then there are the four adorable grandchildren...mostly curious and adventurous, sometimes stubborn, sometimes precocious, always precious. I'm grateful to live in the age of digital photography. Grandma and I can take all the photos we want, delete what isn't just right, never pay for film or developing, get prints made very cheaply, and then set up our Windows 2007 desktop and screen saver to show a different photo every few seconds. What's not to like about that? Since our television is next to our computer in the bonus room, I can watch a Hallmark Hall of Fame or Christmas DVD (we no longer have television channels in our home except online) and if it gets the least bit boring, I can shift my gaze slightly to the right and observe my kids and grandkids doing all sorts of alluring stuff...all this from the comfort of my nearly 12-year-old, conformed-to-my-body-shape, Lane recliner.

I'm also thankful for health and transportation good enough and fast enough to enable us to visit all four of our children's families in four different states (none in Tennessee) over 18 days during this holiday season. We will first head west to see Daniel and Katelyn in Searcy, Arkansas (she graduates from Harding University the next day). We will then drive to my brother's home in Texas - Drake and his wife Bonnie live in Keller close to their daughters' families. From there we Westward Ho the Wagons (or sedan) to Hobbs, New Mexico for an early Christmas with Kara and Barry and the twin grandtoddlers Alyna and Ryan. Probably on Christmas Day we will trek to Kyle, Texas for another Christmas with Matt and Kathryne and our grandsons Sean and Joshua. Sunday, December 27, will find us making the 800+ mile journey home so we can catch a Monday afternoon flight to Quincy, Massachusetts for New Years with Krista and Adam. I do wish William Shatner and Leonard Nemoy would get cracking on that Star Trek "beam me up, Scotty" technology...as much as we enjoy road tripping, to be able to hold a suitcase and stand on a transporter platform and hear someone state - in an excellent Captain Kirk imitation voice - "Energize!" would be the ultimate in vacation transportation. Perhaps if I live to Dr. Axe's prophetic age of 120, I will be able to sit in my wheel chair or lie in my adjustable bed and get beamed to any g' g' g' grandchild I want. I wonder if the technology would allow for beam blocking by which they could keep certain meddling in-laws from transporting in any time they wished. I can only imagine.

So, that's it for now. My ramblings are complete. Have a safe and warm holiday season with your family and friends and try not to eat too much. But when - not if - you do, be sure it's organic with agave nectar instead of sugar or Splenda and extreme dark chocolate along with entrees that are range free, grass fed, cage free, wild Alaska caught, and so forth and so on...and to all a good night!

Resistance is futile

Going where no man has gone before...and meeting the Borg. Captain P. learned at least one lesson from that lengthy encounter encompassing several episodes in that next generation: even when resistance is futile, resist anyway if it's right.

It was the right time to join the high tech world of cell phones especially finding ourselves without a charger in the house and three soon-to-begin-dying phones. One was in New Mexico (hope the twins don't call Australia too often, though that would be challenging with just the charger and no phone) and the other two were left in Gatlinburg last week. This ditching of all the chargers (like old Sixties Dodges) was unintentional, but it did spur us to a move we've talked of for awhile now. We have both been unhappy with the Go Phones we had bought at Wal-Mart in recent years. Having recently joined Facebook and begun blogging, I reflected that it might bea sign from somewhere...Jean Luk? Or perhaps Use-the-force-Luke? Anyway it was time to join the cell revolution.

We went from simple Go Phones to LG Xenons that have touch screens (aren't we worried about smudges and finger prints obscuring everything) and sliding key boards (not that we've ever texted anyone about anything). So here we are with two new fully charged cell phones. It took me awhile to know how to check voice mail, activate that infamous touchscreen, even turning it on and off was...actually exactly the same as with the Go Phones. So, it's not so bad after all. They even gave us instruction books. Wow! And they are surely prettier and sleeker than the old ones.

Kind of like our bodies on the healing diet...prettier and sleeker. Well, at least Delores'. Mine is just a little lighter. By the way, I did find a new belt at Ross Dress for Less today for several dollars less than the Wal-Mart Always price. I've needed one since I lost 4 waist inches and bought new pants. See how sneakily I turned this blog from technology to buying clothes that fit better. Actually the title still fits.

Whether in new technology or a new healthy lifestyle...resistance is indeed futile. That's what I thought when I ate that delicious piece of Boston Cream Pie at the MMC Christmas Open House last evening before night classes began. Chalk it up to an eating vacation day at work. I had very little resistance, so what small amount I did have was futile.