Quit ah stealin' my gators!

This is too good not to share. Mom arrived home and had several messages on her machine. Here is a cut and paste from her e-mail to me:

Had 5 messages and one was from some hillybilly who said:

"Ah think this is the number for Jack and Ah'm gonna kick your ass! Yor' takin' all my gator business and Ah know it!"

I swear that is a quote. What next? Love, Mom

Dear Mom,
You leave those gaters alone.
Love,

Dena

Dead Battery - Part II

Tow truck man climbs out and hitches our car to his truck and motions us to get into the cab of his 2-seater truck. I look at mom and grin.

"I'm sitting on your lap."

"Nice try," she said. "Get your butt in there first."

So I climb in and Mom is starting to climb in on me when Tow Truck guy jerks his thumb toward the rear of the cab and says, "There's space back there."

And so there was. A tiny little backseat sitting area we hadn't noticed. Mom is trying to slip in behind the seat without much success until the guy tells us how to pull the seat forward and even then it's a tight fit and so I get out and slip in back and she climbs in front and the guy is saying something the whole time but we're ignoring him as we try to get settled. As we final get seated I turn to him. "What?"

"I said there's a door there you can use."

Duh-oy! Nothing like fitting the stereotype of the ignorant woman driver.

He tows us a mile up the road to an Advance Auto Parts where a guy comes out and tests our battery. He looks at the machine, shows it to tow truck guy, and both their eyebrows go up. They look at us in amazement. Auto Parts guy says, "I've never seen a battery this low in my life."

How comforting.

"Can you replace it?" I ask.

He tilts his hat back and scratches his head. "I've been getting out of the battery business. Just not a lot of money in it. I've only got 2-3 expired ones on the shelf."

"Oh," I say. "Well, alright, I guess we can just get towed to--"

Mom interrupts. "Dena, I think he's kidding."

Both Auto Parts Man and Tow Truck guy burst out laughing. I decide I loathe all auto repair reps.

"Don't worry, I'll fix you up," says Auto Parts man. I hear him chuckling as he walks back toward the store. "I'm getting out of the battery business. Hee, hee. Good one."

We get our new battery and flee for home, both of us joking that with Mom's string of luck lately, she best not get on her plane tomorrow. Dead batteries, traffic jams, and emergency landing warnings just don't make one feel safe.

And indeed, when we arrived at the airport the next day to drop Mom off (2 hours early), the first words out of the desk clerk's mouth were "That flight has been delayed."

Bad luck? Not at all! Turns out an earlier flight had been delayed so she got on that one and actually left an hour earlier than she would have on her regular flight.

And not a dead plane battery in sight.

Dead Battery

My mom is in town visiting for a few days. Her flight in was a comedy of errors. Lost in the Chicago airport and parking garages, seat assignment lost, no gate assignment, and then near the end of the flight her pilot hops on the intercom and announces, "Should the aircraft be required to make an emergency landing, you are to leave all personal belongings on the plane and exit immediately. Thank you."

Mom turns to the woman next to her. "Have you ever heard a captain make an announcement like that before?"

The woman, wide-eyed, shook her head. "No."

They look at each other and each pulled their seatbelts a little tighter.

But she made it. On the way to our home though, we encounter a traffic jam from an accident. We look at her and jokingly I say, "You're a jinx." We all laugh.

Then yesterday Mom and I are out shopping. We zip around town and end up at some furniture stores. We climb into my car, desperate for air conditioning to cut the 90 degree humidity.

I turn the key. Nothing. I try again. Nothing. I pull the key out, look at it, insert it and try again. Nada. Not even a click. I look at Mom. "Not my fault," she says, grinning.

"No,no, you're right," I say. "This is why God created AAA." We call for a tow truck and head to a restaurant next door to wait. (Brixx Pizza on Westridge Terrace -gave us our drinks free while we waited. Thank you!)

Tow truck guy arrives and jump starts the car. Yea! We head for home. We get about a 1/2 mile and the car dies at the first stoplight. And we're on Battleground Avenue, the busiest road in Greensboro where folks do not take at all kindly to stalled cars and their owners.

"Pull the guy's number out," I'm yelling at Mom while I pop the hood. "He can't be far away!"

She finds his number and I call (what on earth did we do before cell phones?) only to get the machine. "Aaauuugh," I moan, which quickly changes to a whoop of triumph as I see our tow truck guy pull up behind us. Yes! We're saved!

(The adventure continues tomorrow...)