Aug 21 2006
Best Laid Schemes
(those following Falcon can go on to Part 18, or newbies can start at the beginning)
My good friend Alvis drove to our house Sunday expecting to help me load a dishwasher into our minivan, then follow me in it as I drove my Sebring. He would drive to Best Buy, me close behind, and then watch me buy a new CD player/receiver for the car and have them install it at no additional charge. He would ride with me while we drove to his house to drop off the dishwasher, then let me hang out there while my car was getting upgraded. He might even watch me drink one of the Capri Sun pouches that he and his wife keep on hand for their son.
To quote Robert Burns:
The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft a-gley.
This has been adapted (i.e., “dumbed down for the masses”) to say, “The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.”
However you prefer to say it, the quote fit us perfectly. I’m not sure anything went as planned.
First, Ben wakes up a little early from his nap. His mommy doesn’t feel too great, so we agree to take Ben along for the ride. Also, both vehicles need fuel. The wife and I ran the Odyssey to dang near empty gallivanting on Saturday. New plan: Alvis drives Ben in the minivan, and we both stop at the Valero and gas up.
We both stop at the intersection where Valero sits, with one or two cars in front of Alvis, and me directly behind. I wave my arms to remind him that we’re stopping for gas, and he throws up his arms as if to say, “WTF?” The light turns green and all the other cars pull away from us.
An overwhelming sense of dread hits me.
I put the Sebring in park, turn on the hazard lights, and wait until no cars are zipping past at 50 mph. Alvis slides the driver’s side window down and shows me that it won’t start. On a positive note, the Odyssey is no longer low on gas.
I unstrap Ben from his carseat and carry him to the Sebring so I can shut it off and lock it up. We all walk to the Valero in the 103-degree heat, and I ask the very nice lady working the counter if they have a gas can I can borrow to buy some of their gas and get my stalled vehicle over here to buy a whole lot more of their gas.
By this time Alvis has located a 2.5-gallon plastic gas can that I can gladly buy for $10. I buy it, but not very gladly. I joke that I should call Shannon and get her sick booty out of bed to bring me gas. This would be eerily similar to the time that she flirted with the fumes game and lost. The only problem? We have both of our vehicles. Alvis suggests that it’s a bad idea, anyway, and I agree.
As I’m pumping gas into the shiny red container, Ben says, “Daddy, I need to go potty.” Alvis and I convince him to hang in there until we can get the can back to the van, then drive him back to the can.
Nobody has smashed into the Sebring by the time we return, and I pour gas into the minivan without incident. We drive back over, Ben pees in the potty after a bribe of Munchos chips, and I grab us a couple of bottled waters. Because, after all, it’s freakin’ hot.
Fast forward to Best Buy. Just as we debark from the vehicles, my mobile phone rings. It’s a guy from work saying that he needs me to do a snapshot on a NetApp filer (it’s one of our customer’s NAS solutions, to clear it up for all of you who wonder). Alvis graciously loads Ben into a wheeled wonder magically morphed into a firetruck/shopping cart combo. I multitask by talking my guy through doing the snapshot himself, while finding the CD player I want.
Next snag: the installer guy is sick and they won’t be able to get me in until Wednesday.
Now, I’ve installed two car stereos all by myself, but I don’t solder things, and invariably something comes loose and I have to kind of push my unit around to make everything come out right. Plus I’m filling up a huge spot with a small player. This time, I want someone else to handle it.
The rest, the whole dishwasher unloading thing at Alvis’ house, goes just fine.
After we arrive back home and thank Alvis for all he did, Ben and I have a great afternoon together at the house while his mommy rests her infected sinuses.
You get ten points for making a Robbie Burns reference. The only thing better is Star Wars or Monty Python. Small recompense for your wonderful day, but it’s all I can do.
Hell, you can’t even do anything with those points…
Yeah, I admit I didn’t remember from my English major days that he wrote that famous passage. I did a search on the popularized version and was pleasantly surprised.
I don’t know. I might be able to get something if I go around telling people I have Robert Burns points. Around here, that would be an ass-kickin’.
I see you changed the title, I should probably thank you. Yes, I looked earlier. :)
And do you really think you would get your ass kicked around here for having Robert Burns points? Hell, no one would even know who he is. :)
As for running out of gas, I was happy to be there with you, looking like a dork. :)
Enough smilies in this post?
I wish I could quit you.
Alvis - Yeah, I changed the title. Sometimes, things are more special when shared only within one’s inner circle.
I would only get my posterior punished (somehow it sounds dirty when I use those words) if I bragged about Robert Burns points.
Yes, as with anything, looking like a dork is better when it’s shared.
That’ll learn ya to keep the tank at least 1/4 full! *LOL*
In all my years of drive… I’ve never run out of gas (I’ve faked it with a few girls in the passenger seat….. but never for real).
Out of gas again…whew. How many times is that now?
I’m going to need an explanation on one very key point. Why didn’t you drive the Sebring to the station to get the gas? Why did you walk? Is there more to the situation that I missed?
I was reading and I got to, “I unstrap Ben from his carseat and carry him to the Sebring so I can shut it off and lock it up. We all walk to the Valero in the 103-degree heat,” and I had to go back and read it again. I thought…”I misread that. He was saying that he moved Ben AND his carseat into the other car.” But alas…I read it right the first time.
So, once you’ve ponied up a good explanation for that one, maybe you can help me with why you bought a $10 gas can, when you could have bought a $.99 gallon jug of “Grape Drink,” poured it out, and then used that for your gas can. Shoot..even a gallon of milk for that matter. Even two. I guess you were worried about the “approved container” police coming to get you. :-)
I’m going to need to see more common sense, and less Burn’s quotes for me to have faith that you really did grow up in Arkansas. :-)
PS…Please have Alvis go lean on the references or quotes from Brokeback Mtn. The “I can’t quit you” made me a little queasy.
Chuck - Well, since you asked, here goes…
We were on an intersection at a busy road. When cars weren’t rushing by at 55 mph, they were lined up about 10 cars back for the red light. We were right at the front, and folks were already waiting to get out into the other lane to get around us.
As for our walk and why we didn’t take the Sebring? The gas station was directly on the other side of the street perpendicular to ours. It was four lanes, but was not busy at all. Unstrapping Ben’s car seat, moving it, and strapping it into the Sebring, then trying to get the Sebring into the other lane to get around seemed more dangerous and time consuming to me, so we just left both cars. The less time me and mine spend two or three feet from speeding cars, the better.
I guess if we would have thought of a gallon jug of some sort, that would have been pretty good, until there was no way to get the gas through the opening and through that metal flap. Maybe the convenience store carried funnels, too? Or, what could we have MacGyver‘ed up to do that? Hmmm… What Would MacGyver Do?
I can never hope to control Alvis. We’re both a little whacky, but we loves our womens.
Who is Robert Burns? Answer: Scottish poet most famous for transcripting in the 1700s the words to an old Scottish song “Auld Lang Syne.”
I nearly ran out of gas one day on the way home from work. I was watching it closely.