Saturday Morning with Larry-Boy
Bummer. Hafta work today. Saturday.
Saturdays as a kid had me up at the crack of dawn, playing outside until the Shows & Cartoons came on.
Fifty years later I'm trudging to the car in an April snow storm...and there's not a "pic-a-nick-bas-ket" in sight, Boo-Boo. Sometimes this adult stuff just...
I stand next to Larry-Boy, the 20-year old Park Avenue which ferries me to work, rolling down Highway 17 to the next town south.
(I named him Larry-Boy after the alter-ego of Larry the Cucumber of Veggie Tales fame (Larry-Boy is a "super hero with suction-cup ears"...really...look it up). The Park Avenue and Larry the Cucumber share a deep green color and even deeper illusions of grandeur. )
I start Larry-Boy to iet warm him up and trudge back into the house for another cup of the Elixir of Knowledge. Twelve minutes later I go out and slide behind the wheel.
My breath fogs up the windshield. The dash tells me it's 11.
(Anybody else hear a looped GIF of John Candy's famous meteorological one-word/one-liner?......"1"-"1"......"1"-"1"....."1"-....).
Then I notice the outdated interior is quiet. I hear the muffled, purring growl of Larry-Boy's motor...but not the nasal roar of the defroster. Wait.
I didn't turn on -
Disgusted with this oversight, the air gets a brief blue tinge as I sit in an 11-degree car and stare at the iced-over windshield, waiting for it to clear enough so I can see what I might hit on the way to work.
I unzip my Green Bay Packer man-bag, rummage past the tupperware-encased lunch, and grab the shortie thermos.
I continue my impatient vigil while slowly sipping the steaming Elixir of Knowledge...and now my glasses fog up.
Great. Just -
The Elixir thaws a thought that drips inconveniently into my mind's eye, making me blink.
I s'pose it's like that, but...well, yeah...it's JUST like that...
Anyone passing by would think Larry-Boy is warming up. The engine's growling, the tailpipe's smoking. Everything looks ready to roll.
T-minus ten and counting.
But on the inside, Larry-Boy is not ready. All the glass is frosted over. The merest hint of breath fogs the windows.
Another pull of the Elixir brings old readings to mind, paraphrased for the occasion.
"Having a source of heat but denying its on-switch."
"To defrost is better than idling."
"Man looks at the outside but He looks at the interior temperature."
"Sit still and know that I will defrost."
"I am the Heat, the Heater, and the Defroster. No one can defrost enough to drive safely without Me."
If I backed outta the driveway right now, Larry-Boy would be flying blind. No way to see the road. Nothing to do but white-knuckle the wheel and wait for the crash.
And so what do I do? I rant and rave against the Manufacturer who gave me a car that ices over in cold weather. That crashes into things. A car that is cold, uncomfortable, and scary.
There's an Owner's Manual in the glove box, full of everything I need to know. It was put there by the Manufacturer. So I could drive safely and abundantly.
Another sip of the Elixir puts things into perspective. I'm the one who lets the Heat in.
I lean forward a bit. There's a clear spot on the windshield about the size of a coffee cup.
I lean back and take another sip.
Yeah. Thing's are starting to clear up......thanks to the Manufacturer.