Similar Parents

Stephen's relationship with his parents was what I considered to be - odd. It certainly was not like mine with my own parents. Although his mother was constantly yelling at him. But she didn't call him names and say she hated him. She just yelled at him all the time. In fact, everyone in his family yelled at everyone else. I think it was how they communicated.

But his parents could be so capricious. Without warning they would turn from yelling and screaming to complete and utter generosity. Or the reverse.

Every so often his dad would try to join some of the things we did: billiards, basketball, football, fishing, movies. He was better than average at billiards. He completely sucked at the rest.

I remember one time Stephen calling me up on a Saturday to ask if I wanted to go out that night. I said sure. He said he would be right over. I went outside to wait for him. It was a nice day.

Since Stephen only lived about five miles away it didn't take long for him to show up. Our house was on a corner and I saw him driving to the stop. Right behind him was his dad, laying on the horn. Stephen stopped and got out and he and his dad engaged in a loud exchange. I was too far away to make out the exact words, but the end result was both cars turned around and drove back to Stephen's house. I went inside to wait for the phone call.

I could hear the yelling in the background. It still wasn't clear what the problem was, but Stephen wasn't going to be able to use the car that night. I would have to drive to him. So I got permission to use the car and went to his house. He was eager to leave. The yelling continued until we were both in my car and driving away.

What had happened was this. Stephen's dad had decided to clock Stephen's speed. But he didn't want Stephen to know it, so he waited until Stephen was well away before getting in the other car and following. But to clock Stephen's speed he had to speed to catch up. When he found himself going 70 m.p.h. to catch Stephen he concluded that Stephen was going 70 m.p.h. Stephen, of course, argued that if he had been going that fast then his dad would have had to have gone even faster to catch up. The argument fell on deaf ears. All his dad knew was how fast he was going. Therefore, Stephen had to have been going that fast, too.

Now that I think of it, Stephen's parents were a lot like mine. They didn't make any sense at all.

Three in One

While we (Spouse, Son and myself) have not had to endure great quantities of snow thus far, portions of Minnesota have been deluged. What we have had around here is ice. Lots of it. Thick. And slippery. Just the other day I went down like a sack of potatoes. In front of witnesses. No real harm done. A bit of a bruise on my knee and hand. Could have been worse. Much worse.

It got me to thinking. I remember when I was seventeen and driving on ice to school.

It was after The Old House had burned. In fact, it was the winter Daddy died. Not long after, in fact.

I was staying with my older sister who lived in Coon Rapids. That was about ten to twenty miles away from my high school. Since I was a senior I opted to continue at my regular school rather than finish up at at new school. So I would drive every morning and afternoon.

Now this particular morning I got up to find a freezing rain falling. I was going to be late. Nothing to do about it. I would have to drive slow.

Only driving slow didn't help me this particular morning. The ice was wet and so particularly slippery. I discovered exactly how slippery as I crested a hill and began a long descent to a low place which crossed a small creek. To my horror the back of the car began to pass the front. I steered toward the slide, but the car refused to straighten out.

Now I did not go off the road and into the creek. Fortunately, someone of clever thinking and foresight had installed posts alongside the rode to prevent this very occurrence. So when the car reach the first post the back end struck it, causing the car to swing around the other way. Now I frantically steered the other way. Of course there was an oncoming vehicle.

How we missed I'm not sure, but my car struck a post on the opposite side of the road and swung back to the original. I think it was at this time the two vehicles passed each other. I hit another post, but now I had reached the bottom and was now on my way back up. This allowed me to regain control of my car and straighten it out.

I pulled over to the side and used a tow chain to pull the fender away from the tire. Then I got back in and started off again.

Just a few miles down the road I came to a "T" intersection. My road was heading slightly downhill, and as I pumped the brakes I realized I was not going to stop. My only hope was that there was no cross traffic. There wasn't, but I slide right across the road and into a shallow ditch which made up the front yard of a one of my classmates. Since it was shallow I just floored it and got out.

All was fine from then on until I got one block away from school, at which time I hit another untenable patch and found myself on a church lawn.

Off the road three times in one trip. It remains my personal record to this day. Fortunately, but the time school was out the sun had managed to melt off the ice and I had no trouble getting back to my sisters.

Gotta be careful with ice.