Sometimes it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed. One of those days was last week, when I boarded an
airplane in Orlando to Detroit.
Now all I had heard days before is how this once-in-a-decade blizzard was blanketing Michigan. I
assumed my flight would be cancelled, but lo and behold, not only was it “not cancelled,” it was on time.
Thus I flew in to Detroit, and made my long trek to the west side of the state. Amazingly again, although
warnings were everywhere and school had been cancelled all over the state, the roads were fine and
driving, if you drove carefully, was enjoyable. Only four vehicles, one a jackknifed semi, had found the
ditch in our 3-hour drive.
Daylight had vanished by the time I reached my house. As we entered, I noticed a chill in the air. I
checked the wall thermostat and lo and behold it registered 41 degrees. I walked up my stair steps to
check the thermostat upstairs- 39 degrees it displayed.
My son and I fiddled with the furnace, but to no avail. It wouldn’t produce heat thus we were stuck in a
big house with no heat. At that point we both determined the best course of action would be to light a
fire and burrow ourselves under coats and blankets. Needless to say it wasn’t a very restful night.
Next morning we began our 20-minute trip to the office. Now I have driven this route hundreds of times,
with nary a problem. This time, however, after a freezing night and just returning from perfect weather
in Florida, fate had us braking madly as a big ‘ole deer jumped out in front of the car. No way could I
avoid the four-legged creature. He ran dead center into the front of the car taking out the entire grill
and pushing in the radiator.
Thank God, the car was driveable. We made it to the office, only to learn that the printer had lost power
the night before. We have newspapers printed on Tuesday and Thursday nights. Without power the
printing company we utilize, couldn’t provide delivery of our newspapers on Tuesday night in Michigan,
until 24-hours later. I was aghast. How can we publish a newspaper, 24-hours late? If I didn’t have heart
palpitations from hitting a deer, I now had them knowing my newspapers wouldn’t hit customer
mailboxes on time?
After spending the workday fretting about late deliver, my son and I decided to stop by the local grocery
store to buy food and supplies for the house. After filling our grocery cart with milk, orange juice, frozen
foods, soup, cookies and a 12-pack of beer, we headed to the self-checkout. As we had done dozens of
times in the past, my son and I put all the items through and waited for the attendant to approve the
beer purchase.
I produced my driver’s license and then she asked my 20-year-old son for his. We explained I’m buying
the beer, not him. It didn’t matter, she refused to sell us the beer, even though I, 69-years-old, was the
purchaser. Because I had a minor with me, I couldn’t buy alcohol. I proceeded to explain to her that she
had the law wrong, but she wouldn’t listen. Rather than make a scene we took our groceries, sans beer,
and quietly left. Know for sure we will never return.
No heat, no alcohol and a smashed-up car. What more can we expect on any given day? All I can think
about is this was Groundhog Day, and I don’t want to be the Bill Murray character in the movie. One of
these days I can handle, but over and over and those heart palpitations will soon become the real thing.
