Grandma's letter

 

GRANDMA'S LETTER

She is 88 years old and still drives her own car.   She writes: 

Dear Grand-son,

The other day your Grandpa and I went up to our local Christian book store and saw a 'Honk if you love Jesus’ bumper sticker. 

I was feeling particularly sassy that day because I had just come from a thrilling choir performance, followed by a thunderous prayer meeting.  So, I bought the sticker and put it on my bumper. 

Boy, am I glad I did, what an uplifting experience that was.  I was stopped at a red light at a busy intersection, just lost in thought about the Lord and how good He is, and I didn't notice that the light had changed. 

It is a good thing someone else loves Jesus because if he hadn't honked, I'd never have noticed.  I found that lots of people love Jesus!   While I was sitting there, the guy behind started honking like crazy, and then he leaned out of his window and screamed,

' For the love of God! '   ' Go! Go! Go! Jesus Christ, GO!'

What an exuberant cheerleader he was for Jesus!  Everyone started honking! I just leaned out my window and started waving and smiling at all those loving people.  I even honked my horn a few times to share in the love!

There must have been a man from Florida back there because I heard him yelling something about a sunny beach.

I saw another guy waving in a funny way with only his middle finger stuck up in the air.  I asked Grandpa what that meant. He said it was probably a Hawaiian good luck sign or something.

Well, I have never met anyone from Hawaii, so I leaned out the window and gave him the good luck sign right back. Grandpa did the same from the passenger seat. Why even he was enjoying this religious experience.

A couple of the people were so caught up in the joy of the moment that they got out of their cars and started walking towards me.  I bet they wanted to pray or ask what church I attended, but this is when I noticed the light had changed.  So, I waved at all my brothers and sisters grinning, and drove on through the intersection.

I noticed that I was the only car that got through the intersection before the light changed again and felt kind of sad that I had to leave them after all the love we had shared.

So I slowed the car down, leaned out the window and gave them all the Hawaiian good luck sign one last time as I drove away.  Praise the Lord for such wonderful folks!! 

We will write again soon,

Love, Grandma and Grandpa.

Jack taught me how to do it

 

It's funny how sometimes your mind thinks back to an individual too far in your past whom you'd forgotten many years ago.

Out of the blue, Jack came to mind. I knew him when I was 19; he was two years older and old enough to be my father. He knew it all and was eager to teach me.

At the time I was taking driving lessons. He suggested that I needed practice driving in-between driving lessons and offered to take me in his car.

He had an old car with the words Just Married still painted on the back. He tried to clean it but the painted words became part of the car and scraping them off would damage the original paintwork. The car was held together by rust.

He said we did not need an "L" plate to indicate I was a learner because this would draw attention to the car. It was parked in his garage.

He explained that the driver's chair slides backwards and forwards because the mechanism to hold it in place was broken. If I sat in a particular position my backside would stop the seat from moving.

He also said that to change gears you don't put your foot down on that pedal and change. Instead, you put your foot on the pedal, move the gear lever from 1 to neutral, release your foot, step on the pedal again, then move the gear stick to 2. You do the same thing when you change from 2 to 3; or when you go down from a higher gear to a lower one.

He told me not to worry if the steering wheel is a bit loose. I just have to turn it round more than usual.

And when I need the horn I have to tap it several times because it does not always work; and sometimes it sticks to a continuous hooting sound.

Also to pump the brakes several times for it to work.

And the seat belt is a bit loose but it works if you wind it round the gear stick.

And not to worry about the crack in the windscreen - just look "through" it.

I declined any lessons with him. He told me he and his girl had enjoyed many rides in that car.

Doe men listen to women?

 

I wonder how many men will write in and answer this question honestly? Do men really listen to women or do they just nod, and smile, and keep repeating "yes dear ... yes ... I understand ..." and keep watching sports on TV or doing whatever it is they are doing?

In my case, I keep getting interrupted when doing something very important, like watching TV. 

I may be watching a documentary and they show a country somewhere ... say Canada for instance ... and I'm interrupted by "Justin Bieber is from Canada ... so is Shania Twain ..."

Well, that information certainly enriched my life. By the time I digested and ignored this ground-breaking piece of non-information I have missed what they were saying on TV.

Or other inane information ... "I had a friend in school who came from Canada."

Come on men, tell me whether this ever happens to you and how do you deal with it.

The other day we had to go to a wedding in a town I'd never visited before. I was not looking forwards to the journey. I thought about the poor man getting married and committing himself to a lifetime of incessant listening. 

I switched on the GPS navigation system in the car and it did not work. Great ... now what? My wife got out the map book. I then remembered my cell-phone has a GPS navigation app too; so I switched that on and we drove off.

A couple of miles down the road the car GPS system came online too. And my wife was following the direction on her map book.

Pretty soon the two women on the GPS systems disagreed. One suggested I drive straight on the other said turn left. 

Brilliant ... I had two women I never met telling me to do different things, and my wife suggesting I stop and ask for directions. Who from? Those cows in the field? Or the sheep over there? How do you ask directions from someone who is not there?

Eventually she won. I stopped in the middle of nowhere in the countryside. We waited for a few minutes. No one ...

So I decided to leave the car and walk around a bit to stretch my legs and perhaps meet someone. Eventually, I saw a farmer in a field. I asked him, "Could you direct me to Notlob, please?"

"Oh ... it's too far to walk from here," he said.

"I've got a car ... about half a mile from here," I replied.

He scratched his head, looked left down the road, then right up ahead, and after a while he advised, "To be honest ... if I was going to Notlob I would not start from here!"

I suddenly thought of a city near Notlob and asked him about that, "do you know where that is?" 

"Oh yes ... I go there once a week to sell our produce," he replied with a smile.

"Good," I said enthusiastically, "can you tell me how you get there?"

"My brother takes me," was his reply.

I walked back to the car and drove off to the sound of three women telling me what to do. Eventually we got there to witness the man vowing to listen to his wife for eternity

DISCLAIMER: For comedic purposes only. This post has been vetted by my wife and two GPS ladies.

Do you want to sell?

 

It's happened again. A few days ago I mentioned that I was parked in a car park waiting for someone to finish shopping. A man approached me and asked if I wanted to sell my car. I said "No" and he went away.

Well, it happened again. My car was parked on our drive in our front garden. It was on private property. Someone has put a well printed and produced card under the windscreen wiper.

It said, "Do you want to sell your car? We offer good prices. Phone this number ..."

I looked up and down the street and none of the neighbours' cars had a similar card on them. I did not know whether to feel proud that my car is attracting attention, or to be insulted because it is an old wreck. So old the Driving Instructions Manual is written in Latin and so are all the controls on the car. 

And another thing ... every so often, about once a month I would say, we receive a card through the letter box from various Estate Agents. The card says, "Do you want to sell your house? We have three potential buyers who would like a house in your area, and yours is an ideal house for them."

Are these people serious when they print and distribute these cards to various households? 

Consider the cost involved in production and distribution of such adverts. Do people suddenly think, "Oh yes ... that's what I'll do. I'll sell my house and move because there are at least three potential buyers out there!"

I know some people sometimes make impulse purchases as a result of adverts, but does that really happen with impulse sales? 

Can you imagine me approaching a woman in the street and saying I like her handbag, would she sell it to me? 

Well, that too happened to me. I was approached by a woman in town who said she liked my trousers because of their mauve colour and she wanted to buy them of me. I refused politely.

Whilst I was not looking, she stole my trousers and ran away. I had to chase her trouser-less for at least a hundred metres until she finally threw them away and ran off.

Luckily, the trousers I had just bought were not damaged as they were still in their packaging. 

On an unrelated matter ... Did you know my grand-father invented the colour mauve. Before then there was red, and there was blue, and violet, and purple, but no mauve. He went to the shops with my grandma and she tried a dress on. She asked him, "Do you like the colour? What is it called?"

He was eager to go home and replied, "Come on ... move!"

She said, "Mauve ... that's my favourite colour from now on!"

My new car

I've got a brand new car and I'm very proud of it.

It's an AUTOMATIC. I've always had manual cars before; you know, with a stick showing numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and so on. This is my first AUTOMATIC and I've had it for three days. It has only two pedals. One for the engine to go Vrooom Vrooom and the other to stop the car.

I found something peculiar about this car. In the morning I put the little handle next to the seat in position D for Day and the car runs properly. It's a joy to drive.

When it gets dark I put the handle in position N for Night and the car refuses to move. No matter how hard I press the pedal for the car to move, the engine screams Vrooooom Vrooooom but it does not move an inch.

Just this morning something terrible happened. I was late for a meeting so I put the handle in position R so that the car would Run fast but it went backwards and hit the car behind me.

MORAL OF THIS STORY

It is easy to wave our hands in the air and Praise God and shout "Yay" in the Daytime of our lives when all is well and life is wonderful.

But in the Darktimes of our lives, when things go wrong for us and are terrible, we can so easily stop our praises and fall into the darkness of doubts, fears and unnecessary worries, and feel abandoned by our loving God.

And at such Darktimes we can even reverse back into temptations and sin because we can no longer see God's loving care which is only just a prayer away. If we trust Him.
 

Decisions, Decisions.

 I sat in my garden admiring that robin flying from one bush to another and then to the ground and then he flies away only to return a minute later. My thoughts wondered from one thought to another and led me to ask more questions leading to even more confusion.

Then the robin spoke to me and said that every decision I make has an effect on another person. I thought about that a bit. He is right, you know.

Let me give you an example. I had a brand new pair of pants. Never wore them. Bought them some time ago. They now do not fit me.

I took them to a tailor and asked him to let them out a bit. He said it will cost £x.

I asked him if it would be cheaper just to buy another larger pair of pants that would fit me.

He said, "No ... you should have me let out these pants for you to fit you. Because that is employment for me. The more you eat, the bigger you are, the more pants I have to let out for you. Which is good. Enjoy!!!"

We all inter-depend on one another in this world. Whatever choices I make in life will somehow affect you or some other person somewhere on the planet. Whether I buy this or that type of food, clothing or whatever will affect the economy or well-being of other people living elsewhere.

Let us say I want to buy a traditional petrol (gas) driven car or an all-electric car. Which one is best for me and for all those affected by my decision?

For the sake of fair comparison let us assume that both cars are identical - same shape, volume, capacity etc ... The materials required to make them, like steel, glass, plastic, rubber and so on is the same.

The robin told me to compare just the mode of motion or mobility. What makes the car move.

What I am comparing here is which engine is overall better in its environmental friendliness, and the cost of such friendliness.

The petrol driven car requires you to dig for oil from underground, transport it somewhere where it is made into petrol, transport that petrol and distribute it everywhere to petrol stations where I can go and fill my tank.

The electric engine requires you to make a battery where the electricity is stored. Then the electricity has to be made at the electric power station and distributed to me to charge my battery. 

Is the cost of making and distributing this electricity ... more or less than that of petrol? 

For example, if the electricity is made from burning coal, or from nuclear then we have to consider the pollution effects of that coal or the disposal of the nuclear bits we no longer want after we have made the electricity. This pollution/disposal costs money which should be added to the cost of production. I'm sure you understand what I mean. The robin certainly does!

Then we have to compare the actual distance travelled. If I want to drive X miles - how much petrol do I need in my car to drive that distance at a certain speed and efficiency? How does this compare with travelling the same distance and speed in an electric car?

What are the comparisons in costs, efficiencies, environmentally friendliness etc ... etc ... of the two  types of fuels.

Finally, my robin asks - is it better to have a red or a blue car? I prefer white. The robin prefers a green car.

And ... how can I attract more robins to my garden? More worms in the ground?

The Pursuit

I drove to the city, some forty miles away, for a business meeting which finished early in the afternoon. I looked forwards to an early return home relaxing with a Guinness and a football match on TV.

As I drove out of the city I switched on the radio to hear the news. As always, the announcer started with some bad news and then followed on with more bad news. I changed station to some country and western music instead. There's nothing better than "On the road again!" by Willie Nelson when you're travelling. That or Don Williams or Tom T Hall.

Anyway, there I was, approaching my home town and humming to John Denver's "Take me home Country Roads".

I tell you, those country roads in Britain can be long and winding with sharp corners and unexpected ups and downs of hills and narrowing lanes. But the good thing is that they are less busy than highways, and I often take the country roads back home after a difficult day at the city as it helps me to relax whilst driving. 

The other thing with less used country roads is that you tend to notice when you're not alone when driving.

As Waylon Jennings was singing the Dukes of Hazzard Theme Song, "Good Ol' Boys"; I noticed a car following me in my rear view mirror. Just then, by pure coincidence C W McCall started singing "Convoy".

But it was not a convoy on those long and winding roads. It was just the two of us. Me and the sparkling dark blue car a few yards behind me.

I put my foot down on the accelerator to put some distance between us. He did just the same and followed me exactly a few yards behind.

The road was too narrow for me to let him pass. And at the speed I was going I was afraid I might get off the road and land upside down in some ditch.

I slowed down a little. So did he behind me. He followed but kept the same distance of a few yards behind.

I knew this road well and remembered that just over a mile ahead there is a big roundabout; a big island through which many roads intersect in and out.

If I were to enter the roundabout and turn my car all the way round; all 360 degrees; this would give the car following me the opportunity either to drive on ahead of me or to get off at any of the four intersections on the roundabout.

I sped up a little to create some distance between me and my follower. I arrived on the roundabout first and as luck would have it there were no other cars there.

I entered the roundabout from the six o'clock position on a clock face. I turned all the way round to six o'clock again and saw my follower entering the roundabout at six of clock just as I did.

I put my foot down and exited the roundabout at the six o'clock exit just as he entered it.

To my surprise, he did the same manoeuvre and exited at the six o'clock exit following me.

Why did he do that?

He had the opportunity whilst I was going round to exit at twelve o'clock and drive on ahead of me. Or he could have got out at the three or nine o'clock exits. Why did he go all the way round 360 degrees, like me, and get out after me at the same exit we had entered?

It's obvious he is following me. It is obvious he is up to no good.

I looked in my rear view mirror to work out whether he was alone in the car, or whether he had passengers. But he was too far behind for me to see properly, but he was catching me up fast. Obviously, my manoeuvre on the roundabout had confused him and upset him. He has realised I am on to him and now he is catching up with me fast.

I began to panic.

I sped a little more on this dangerous narrow winding road. I nearly got off the road as I slid in a large puddle of water where it had been raining previously. I almost hit a tractor coming out from a side road. I was going a little too fast for these road conditions; and yet, the blue car behind me was following me inch by inch replicating my every move. But he must certainly be a better driver than me because he managed through the puddle of water better and certainly got round that tractor missing it with a hair's breadth.

He was tailing me every step of the way. I could see vaguely in my rear view mirror it was a man driving behind me; but I did not want to look for too long in case I miss a bend on the road and end upside down in a ditch.

Who could he be and what does he want?

I did not recognise the car. Is he a policeman in a plain clothes car; I thought. But if he were a policeman; why not sound his siren and blue lights to stop me?

Who else could he be? A gangster? Does he want to rob me perhaps? Steal my car? His is a better and bigger model, what would he want with my car?

A prankster perhaps? Trying to have some fun by scaring me and following me close behind?

Maybe he is drunk and just out of his mind.

Whoever he was he was scaring me. I could not phone for help because I always switch off my cell-phone whilst driving to avoid receiving calls and disturbing my concentration. I could not let him pass because he had no intention of doing so.

I looked at the gauge on the dashboard and noticed that I was running out of gas. Sooner or later my car would stop and he'd catch up with me anyway. I had to do something desperate.

I remembered a driving manoeuvre I was taught at Advanced Driving lessons. I hadn't done it for ages, but these were desperate times. I took my life in my hands, literally.

I quickly pulled on the handbrake and released it again. The car spun 180 degrees on itself, just like doing a U turn. In the narrow road, I almost flew off into the field by the road, but I didn't. Somehow, by some miracle perhaps, I managed to straighten the car and keep it on the road. There was a tremendous noise as I did this lunatic stunt and dust everywhere. The car zig zagged a little and I drove off at speed as my follower arrived on the scene and put his foot on the brakes violently.

Momentarily, I managed to escape him. I saw in my rear view mirror that he had stopped and tried, after several backwards and forwards motions, to turn his car round again. He was not as good as me after all and could not do the U turn in one go.

I used this time to gain a distance between us as I sped towards the roundabout I had driven through moments earlier. If I reach it quickly and get through it maybe he would not know which exit I took and so I would lose my pursuer.

He was catching up behind me fast. He was a real dare-devil and had a very powerful car. Better than mine.
 
There is no doubt now that this man was following me for the last twenty miles and his intentions were no good.

A cold sweat covered my brow. I could feel my heart pounding fast in my chest. I was afraid. More afraid than I had ever been.

This guy was obviously not a joy-rider out for some fun. He meant business. What if he caught up with me and killed me. He would not want any witnesses after all that's happened. That's why he was following me fast and now beeping on his horn like a madman.  

If only all this beeping would attract someone's attention. But no ... the road was empty. Just me and him speeding recklessly.

I felt like Dennis Weaver in the film Duel by Steven Spielberg.

Have you seen the film? Real scary.

David Mann, (Dennis Weaver), is a middle-aged salesman driving on a business trip. He encounters a rusty truck on the highway which follows him and terrorises him out of his senses

This man behind me is doing just the same.

He stopped beeping his horn. I looked in the mirror and he was catching up with me fast. His headlights now full on to make it obvious he was there. I could see his hand shaking at me out of the window.

Is that a gun in his hand, or is he just wearing a black glove? I can't see properly and drive fast at the same time.

What the hell does he want? Why can't he go away?

If only there were other cars on the road I could signal for help. Or pedestrians; not that there are many in the countryside. It's just a long narrow winding road with either trees on either side or a deep ditch inviting me to fall in and end my life.

I kept driving as fast as I could without endangering my life. He kept following me ... for thirty miles now.

I was entering my town and gaining some bravado confidence.

Why is it we feel brave and confident on home territory? If the other man is bigger and stronger than you he is just as likely to punch you on the nose in your front garden as anywhere else. He doesn't know or care this is your home territory. If he is determined enough to finish you of, because of some unknown reason, or to get rid of a witness, he would do it regardless.

Anyway, now is not the time for philosophical discussions. Especially since my mind is concentrating on going to the bathroom as well as escaping my pursuer. Although I cannot work out which is the more pressing priority!

Why can't they have bathrooms in cars? There must be a way of relieving yourself whilst driving, surely. What is the point of having all the technology to send a man on the moon if we cannot solve such a simple problem? What do they do when on rockets to the moon? Surely they have a system of relieving themselves. Why can't car manufacturers install a similar system in cars?

It's amazing how one's brain works when in a panic.

All these questions rushing through my mind and pressing on my bladder did not solve the problem of my pursuer.

At the next traffic light, which incidentally was red, my bravery took over from my cautiousness and I stopped the car abruptly.

He stopped behind me.

I got out of the car and walked purposely towards him.

I did not know what I was going to say or what I would do. My stupidity had taken control of my mind.

What if he attacked me? What if he had a knife, or a gun, or a baseball bat even?

Thankfully, none of these thoughts crossed my mind, because if they did my bladder would have given up in despair.

As I approached the blue car behind me he pulled down his car window.

Before I said anything he asked: "Who are you?"

I had to think for a second or two before knowing what to answer.

He continued: "You're not Thomas!"

"No ... I am not ..." I mumbled incoherently that I hardly understood myself.

"You're not Thomas Haversmith!" he said. "Where's Thomas?"

"I am not Thomas, and I don't know who or where he is," I said gaining a little courage from I don't know where, "why the hell have you been following me for some thirty miles?"

"I have not been following you," he replied with some irritation in his voice, "I have been following Thomas. I did not know the way to the Conference Centre and he told me to follow him. I did follow him as we left the car park, and I drove for miles only to find it is you and not Thomas! And I must say, you are a terrible driver. Thomas would not drive like that!"

I was so relieved to hear his explanation; not literally relieved, you understand.

I asked him to follow me in the pub up ahead, where I literally relieved myself; and then gave him step by step directions back the thirty miles to the Conference Centre he was supposed to be at.

He told me that he was a guest speaker at the Conference Centre and was due there over an hour ago. He also used my cell-phone to explain to an irate Thomas Haversmith why he was late to address the meeting on the subject of in-car satellite navigation systems.