Trucking Agai.....awwww, Clifford!

I hoped to get away from work early today. I had some comp time built up and we lose it all at midnight on the 14th. But Clifford, who was at the truck doctor's, was not done with his appointment until after 2pm.

A workmate kindly took me to pick up Clifford. It was a simple thing. I handed the cashier half of my paycheck and she sent me into the service bay to collect my little red friend. It was beautiful. He started and I drove out, around the car lot, and home. I got Katie and we went to a doctor and got her a flu shot. They are in short supply. That's why the physicians are gouging the public. We paid $50 for the injection. To add insult to injury, we had to complete a few pages of medical background because the doctor can not stick a needle in anybody's arm and push the plunger unless that person has "a chart." If I had it to do again, that doctor would be believing that my sweet young girl has every ailment known to modern medicine and a few that I made up on the spot. It was so bogus. Now Katie has a chart. If you need to see it, it resides in the office of a doctor we will likely never see again. Considering where Katie got that shot, the $50 was not a co-pay, it was "armed" robbery.

We went from one doctor to another. Katie had a 5pm appointment to have her ears checked so she can have them re-pierced. We arrived a tad early, 4:30, because it didn't make sense to come home only to turn around and go to the next appointment. So there we were. Had you come by at 5 we would still have been there. Ditto for 5:30. Finally, somebody looked out and noticed the drool trickling down the side of my face while my head was thrown back on the windowsill and I heartily presented everybody my best impression of a buzz saw. They asked if anybody had helped us. We said no. We told them we'd been there since 4:30. They did a double-take, then apologized convincingly and we were soon ushered into the heart of the building. It's a pediatrician's office. That's a place where people really like other people and would never dream of demanding a picture of U.S. Grant in exchange for a flu shot. Nice folks. In a matter of minutes we were seen, talked to, and bid adieu to. We were on our way.

We didn't go far. When we opened Clifford's door, the cab light was about as bright as those cheesy yellow bulbs that one often sees in bare fixtures affixed to decrepit buildings and fishing shacks (which may be redundant). Oh no. The next sound we heard was Clifford valiantly but futilely attempting to kick over his engine. It was no good. The folks at the truck doctor's had given him a jolt--much like the couple of jolts I had given him to start him earlier in the week.

Joan and I had made a special trip to Sears a couple of nights ago to purchase jumper cables and a battery charger. 200 amps. It's kind of like a cattle prod for a truck with a thyroid condition. I got Clifford's attention as soon as we got home with my new toy and he cranked right over. I was so proud. I took him out for a spin. If you're not a pickup kind of person you may not appreciate the special joy of sitting up above it all and steering your sheet metal steed through congested roads, into other people's yards, and especially into the muddy ruin that is the local landfill. Sure it's silly. And I'm okay with that. It was good to be teamed with my crimson friend again.

I got home, parked, came inside, slept, awakened, and eagerly dressed and headed outside the next morning. It was like Christmas two weeks early. But it was pretty much like the Christmas I found cobs and coal in my stocking. Clifford had internal combustion dysfunction. Just not enough oomph to get going. So he rested overnight and I took him to the truck doctor's the next morning. This was Thursday. The appointment wasn't until Friday but I wanted to be there early enough to fill somebody's slack time if it was possible. They started on Thursday, finished today, and he got us all the way home, to two doctors, and that's where he is now. Languishing in the parking lot of the nice doctor. Tomorrow I go out and buy him two (count 'em, two!) pacemakers. I think I'll go to WalMart and get two of the biggest honkin' batteries they have. That ought to put some pep in his step. But now? Now it's time for some horizontal pondering. I'm off to Noddy Land. See y'all.