Monthly Archives: August 2010

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Before the Honeymoon

“Driver, aren’t you going to stop those children from making all that noise in the back? They are destroying the bus!”

Alice couldn’t contain herself any more. This was happening more frequently on her daily ride to and from work. Not only was it wrong for these children to behave so poorly in public, it was getting almost frightening.

Ralph had often seen this plain, thirtyish woman on his bus, and had a nodding acquaintance with her. “It’s not my business, lady. I ain’t an airline captain and this ain’t an airplane. ”

Ralph had been driving bus for 16 years, and he silently agreed with her it was getting worse. He used to try to act the role of responsible captain of his ship, but the rules governing actions toward passengers were getting stricter, especially toward “children.” “Hell,” he said to himself, “these aren’t children, they’re wild animals and God knows how management would react if I went back there and spoke harshly to those delicate little souls. Shit! And if I did, the company would just give me crap and nothing good would happen, anywhere.”

“Well, somebody needs to do something,” said Alice furiously, feeling herself on the edge and fearful of losing her temper. “If someone doesn’t stop these children, someone could get hurt. And they’re destroying public property!”

“Lady, if I go back there, which I dearly would love to do,” Ralph said while carefully maneuvering the bus in the driving rain around a double-parked car, forcing oncoming traffic to skid and halt abruptly, “I would bark at them and they would snarl at me and things would get worse and I could get fired. I ain’t Captain America, you know. I’m just a tired, overweight bus driver.”

“Well there aren’t any rules any more, not in the schools, not in public places, not in the homes. What’s to become of us?”  Alice was shaking, her fury increasing, her sense of right and wrong taking another brutal assault by these uncontrolled, uncontrollable young louts.

Without conscious intention, Alice abruptly rose from her seat near the driver, grasping her umbrella from under her arm, and ran to the rear of the bus, a demonic light in her eyes.

“Stop it, stop it, do you hear?” She raised her umbrella and inexpertly smashed it on the seat next to one of the gum-chewing girls who were giggling at the antics of the boys. Alice’s words were contained in a shriek, not unlike the tone and vibrancy of a police whistle.

“Yeow,” cried the girl, and the several boys near her leaped back, startled and astonished at this display. The other few passengers swiveled their heads to the rear of the bus in response to the noise, having already begun their rotation as Alice sped up the aisle.

“You have no consideration for the other passengers, you are destroying the bus so it must be repaired with the tax money your parents pay, and you are disgracing yourselves by your public behavior. You should be ashamed of yourselves, and if your parents could see you they would be ashamed of you too!”

Alice, of course, suspected that their parents didn’t pay taxes and wouldn’t care, but she had in mind her own parents and her own family’s values.

The bus, at this point, had reached a regular stop. Ralph, despite his bulk, rose swiftly from his seat to defend Alice from the attack he was sure would happen upon her from the “wild animals.” Now looming behind her, as she raised her umbrella for another smash on something or someone, Ralph barked,” get off now, all you kids, or I’ll call the cops.”

Stunned, unable to comprehend what they were facing in these two odd-looking people, they stumbled off the open rear exit in a rush, some muttering epithets over their shoulders.

Ralph and Alice, and all the passengers, felt as if a great breath had sucked all the sound from the bus. They were now able to hear the rain on the roof. A few long seconds passed while the sound of the rain, the unusual peacefulness of the bus and the memory of Alice’s passion settled pleasantly into their bones.

Slowly, Alice turned to Ralph and, despite her still remaining and righteous anger, managed a slight smile and said “well done, captain.”

They married two months later.

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Upon Reading the Works of Joseph Conrad

He, in his generosity and necessity,
Presents us with a universe unknown
To ‘lubbers such as we

Where straight men and not so straight
Confront, because there can be no other way for them,
The Inevitable:
The awesome powers of wind and water
The workings of chance
One’s own angels and demons
Ever-hovering death

They, accumulated from everywhere and nowhere,
Usually pull together, or risk the ultimate loss,
For one usually respects death more than one cherishes hate

And so, the Captain-Master-God of each vessel
Forms his sometimes rebellious crew of disparate souls,
Whose peculiar desires combine to bring stuff from there to here and back

But the transport of other men’s goods is not the goal
The prize is the eternal test:
Of one’s strength
Of one’s resolve
Of one’s skills
Of one’s very manhood

Until the sea,
Or the land for those who tire before an honorable end,
Calls him to its forever embrace

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The Perfect Car

When I have been awake-dreaming, imagining impossible things for my own entertainment, I have thought about the perfect car. I have shared this one with Fred, because he understands; there is nothing he doesn’t know or hasn’t thought about cars.

Of course, I’d have to be completely rich with no cares about how much I spend on the perfect car. This makes the imagining easy.

Here is the basis for my desired car: I want it to be powerful, invulnerable, anonymous.

Let’s say I go into a car dealer that sells Rolls Royces, or High-end BMWs. Let’s say I look at a larger than average size, but not ostentatiously large, four-door sedan. Let’s say I like it and say to the obsequious and fawning salesman: “I’ll take it—wrap it up.” The last little comment is to make the cringing salesman quiver with uncertainty. After he mumbles a bit, I tell him the following:

I want it in exactly 30 days, delivered to my home, with the following changes—

  • I want the color to be the darkest blue that you can find, anywhere in the world, but not so dark that it appears to be black. Take off all the current paint; get it down to bare metal. Put enough layers of primer, paint and overcoat on the bare metal to make it seem that the metal itself is of the final color.

  • Take off all the identifying logos and markers. If you want me to advertise your car’s manufacturer and your dealership, I want to be paid for it—a lot. If you can’t do this, the deal is off. (Pause, while the salesman consults the dealership’s manager). I thought you’d see it my way.

  • Armor-plate the insides of the doors, top, hood and trunk with a double layer of Kevlar. Replace all the fenders and bumpers with stainless steel.

  • Change the engine and drive train such that it has the power and sturdiness of a small tank. Oh yes, I want it to accelerate rapidly—zero to 60 MPH in 8 seconds.

  • All the glass has to be bullet-proof and, except where the law demands otherwise for certain windows, opaque to the outside viewer.

  • There are to be no protrusions from the surface of the car, anywhere. All antennas and other communication and electronic navigation apparatus must be internal and, of course, of military quality. The outside door handles are for show, only. I will be able to command the doors electronically with a 100% failsafe system, by my own voice and, as an alternative, by a finger-tap code on a certain portion of the car known only to me. Yes, I know that’s expensive, Get it!

  • All the internal systems of the car—doors, windows, communications—are to be easily controllable only by the driver from a console at his right hand, next to the driver’s seat. I want the best GPS system on the market.

  • There will be a proximity detector for all surfaces such that any object is detectable and communicated to the driver when it is ten centimeters from any surface. A screen in the dashboard will indicate the location and density of this object. There will also be a motion detector, synchronized with the proximity detector. Finally, as a picture of how all this will work and for what possible purpose (I am telling this to the salesman who, by now has recruited the manager who has recruited the owner of the dealership to be witnesses and mutual supporters in this over-powering transaction), let us imagine is there is a strong man with a hand weapon of any sort, blunt or sharp, or a firearm. Let us say that the car detects him and his weapon invading the protected area of one meter. I want the man Tasered—now! Yes, yes, I know. I’ll worry about the legality of all this. I’ll sign a waiver—get your lawyer if you want.

  • Finally, I want the details of this transaction completely confidential and held by a trustee whom I will pay. I want your dealership to post bond to indemnify me for ten times the final amount if you or any of your associates or family reveal the details to anyone, without my express permission. I may someday have to grant permission to a court, I know. That’s my issue with the court and the trustee whose identity you may reveal to others if you are directed to do so by any lawful, court-sanctioned authority.

  • To guarantee compliance and as reward for the extra labor involved, I will pay you the floor price of this car, plus double the extra expense of the modifications, upon my receipt of all expense records. If I detect any padding, I will reduce the extra payment by one-half. This is all to be in writing, notarized and witnessed, of course.

    • Have a nice day!
    —

    I trotted this little fantasy out to Fred, the knower of all things automotive, and he said it would more likely be a thing to be built from scratch by a specialist, and it would be much more confidential if done this way.

    I’m not yet ready to put the specifications out to bid; I’m still working on my first million dollars.