Life Goes On. And on…. and on… and on…

I did finally make it back to High Point.  I awoke on Monday morning in Yakima, Washington, headed for Tacoma, where  I got the bus washed, and then delivered it to the dealership in Lakewood.  There, I got a ride to the bus station, and from there to Sea-Tac, where I wrote that last post.  Then, about 7 hours later, boarded the plane in Seattle, to catch a connecting flight to Detroit. As you know, it is airline policy, if you have a quick connection to make, to put your arrival gate as far as possible from the departure gate for your connecting flight. In Detroit, I had 20 minutes to get from one gate (A73) to the other (A21.)  Here is a diagram showing the approximate distance between the two gates:

Detr

But I made it. I arrived in Charlotte at 9:00 Tuesday morning… then the “Airport Sprinter” bus to the Charlotte AmTrak station, got back to High Point about 1:30, and took a cab. Planes, trains, buses, and automobiles.

So I borrowed my sister’s Durango, and headed to the shop where my car is resting, only to discover that the PT Cruiser is dead. I don’t know enough (or anything) about auto mechanics, but the explanation included words like “timing belt,” “drive shaft,” “valves,” and “master cylinder.”  Anyway, it’s dead.  There were also words such as “scrapyard,”  and “…maybe 2 or 3-hundred dollars.”  I stood there at the counter at High Point Tire, literally choking back tears. Not manly, y’know.  Especially not at a car repair place.

Summing up, then, my current situation: Staying with my sister, no car, and no word yet on another bus to take west (although that could change at any moment.)  Furthermore, one of the cats puked on my socks.

The only bright spot I can find in all this is that if I had stayed in Chambersburg, I’d now have a dead car, no money to repair it, no way to get to work, and I would be stranded with no way out of the predicament. On the other hand, in Chambersburg, there would be no cat puke on my socks.

Today, if anyone tells me to have a great day, there will be violence.

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4 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by Pete on February 18, 2015 at 10:20 AM

    Remember the immortal words of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow – “Into each life some cat puke must fall” – his publicist changed it to ‘rain’…

    Reply

  2. Posted by John Gamber on February 18, 2015 at 12:33 PM

    It was great talking to you! See you next time you’er in Seattle!

    Reply

  3. Posted by carol walsh on February 18, 2015 at 1:39 PM

    Hmmm…..Cat Puke……a warm meal!

    Reply

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