What's Going on Here Book
Chapter 3 – Walking the Dogs in the City – Part B
Well, The Journey began In Kelowna just on the day of the 2001 World Trade Center crisis.
We knew we had to move when an elderly Custodian in uniform verbally accosted us. He yelled angrily from across the street, “Are you an Arab”? (I’m Latvian but my wife is Chinese.) We’d run into sidelong glances/whispers before but blatant statements. . . ah well, go figure, us, Latvian/Chinese Arabs.
We knew we had to move when an elderly Custodian in uniform verbally accosted us. He yelled angrily from across the street, “Are you an Arab”? (I’m Latvian but my wife is Chinese.) We’d run into sidelong glances/whispers before but blatant statements. . . ah well, go figure, us, Latvian/Chinese Arabs.
So, we gave a month’s notice, packed up our elderly, yellow Volvo station wagon with all our earthly belongings and started off down the road again.
Except . . .
The night before, the Royal Her had a dream about frayed fan belts breaking. Consequently, the next day we booked an appointment into one of the many commercial servicing stations to replace said belts.
Fortunately, across the street from the station an outdoor lounge enticed us to enter and wait in the comfort of warm, sunny weather, good food, and adequate pints of local beer. After a more than satisfactory repast, we discovered we still had forty-five minutes before our car would be ready.
The forty-five minutes gave us, we figured, the time needed to decide where to go–east or west–Vancouver or Calgary. Looking down, I noticed a stray dime sitting on the concrete beside my left foot.
Pointing to it I suggested, “Why don’t we toss the dime, call it heads for Vancouver and tails for Calgary?”
Partner agreed.
Leaned over, picked up the silver, tossed it, caught it and turned it over–tails. Without speaking we decided on two-out-of-three: tails again. Seems as if we both secretly favoured Vancouver but mixing metaphor with reality. the die was cast.
Three out of five found me throwing another tail. Wife grabbed the offending dime out of my hand, tossed it and . . . five out of seven, tails. She threw the coin two more times, the last time letting it land on the concrete.
Miracle upon miracles, seven times tails, all telling us to go Calgary way. Somewhat despondently we paid the restaurant bill and made our way over to the service station and paid the invoice and off to Calgary (resignedly) we puttered.
Yes, we left the dime on the ground.
Epilogue
Technicians at service station forgot to put an electrical wire on to the alternator. Just short of Revelstoke the battery ran down. We pulled off a side road. I tried to put the wire back on but it seems, probably, that at least one of the other wires sat on an incorrect contact.
Morning found me flagging down a car to give us a boost. I tried to reset the alternator wires to no real advantage. (Four times three times two times one gave me twenty-four to one odds to get it right–better odds playing Blackjack.)
Crippled yellow monster into Edmonton (relatives) after a second boost just out of Ponoka.
Joke was on us. Discovered one of the alternator wires had a short and had to be replaced. No combination of wires I could have tried would have ever worked.
Except . . .
The night before, the Royal Her had a dream about frayed fan belts breaking. Consequently, the next day we booked an appointment into one of the many commercial servicing stations to replace said belts.
Fortunately, across the street from the station an outdoor lounge enticed us to enter and wait in the comfort of warm, sunny weather, good food, and adequate pints of local beer. After a more than satisfactory repast, we discovered we still had forty-five minutes before our car would be ready.
The forty-five minutes gave us, we figured, the time needed to decide where to go–east or west–Vancouver or Calgary. Looking down, I noticed a stray dime sitting on the concrete beside my left foot.
Pointing to it I suggested, “Why don’t we toss the dime, call it heads for Vancouver and tails for Calgary?”
Partner agreed.
Leaned over, picked up the silver, tossed it, caught it and turned it over–tails. Without speaking we decided on two-out-of-three: tails again. Seems as if we both secretly favoured Vancouver but mixing metaphor with reality. the die was cast.
Three out of five found me throwing another tail. Wife grabbed the offending dime out of my hand, tossed it and . . . five out of seven, tails. She threw the coin two more times, the last time letting it land on the concrete.
Miracle upon miracles, seven times tails, all telling us to go Calgary way. Somewhat despondently we paid the restaurant bill and made our way over to the service station and paid the invoice and off to Calgary (resignedly) we puttered.
Yes, we left the dime on the ground.
Epilogue
Technicians at service station forgot to put an electrical wire on to the alternator. Just short of Revelstoke the battery ran down. We pulled off a side road. I tried to put the wire back on but it seems, probably, that at least one of the other wires sat on an incorrect contact.
Morning found me flagging down a car to give us a boost. I tried to reset the alternator wires to no real advantage. (Four times three times two times one gave me twenty-four to one odds to get it right–better odds playing Blackjack.)
Crippled yellow monster into Edmonton (relatives) after a second boost just out of Ponoka.
Joke was on us. Discovered one of the alternator wires had a short and had to be replaced. No combination of wires I could have tried would have ever worked.
