Posted in driving

A sweet upgrade

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Erik Mclean on Unsplash

If I need a car when we travel, I prefer to rent from Alamo. They’re not always the cheapest, but I get great customer service and they usually have a good selection of cars ready to go.

After we landed in Dallas yesterday, we caught the shuttle bus to the rental car center. It’s been totally remodeled since we were last here six months ago. As we walked past all the rental company counters, I saw that the only company with a line was Alamo, with whom we had a reservation. Plenty of people were working the counter, but it looked like about a forty-five minute wait to get a car.

A small sign on a kiosk reminded me of a “skip the counter” option. I hadn’t had much luck doing that in the past, but I figured why not give it a try. This time, it worked. As I waited in the non-moving line, I added a little more info into the phone app, and in a few minutes had a ticket. I ducked out of line and headed out to get a car.

In the parking garage I showed the rental agent the bar code on my phone, which stated, “You click we pick.” When Preston saw that he said, “Ah, the mystery car.”

I said, “A batmobile?”

He chuckled and said, “I’ve been working here eight years and no one has ever come back with ‘batmobile’! Customers usually hope for a Jaguar or Ferrarri.”

I added, “Either that or Knight Rider.”

I assumed that I would get a compact car, midsize at best. But as we looked down the row of vehicles ready to go, Preston said, “Want a Jeep? I’ve got a Wrangler at the end of the row.”

My wife and I both said, “Sure!” If I had reserved a Jeep on the front end, it would have cost me twice as much. So this was a sweet upgrade and promised to be a fun way to tool around the Dallas area.

I think every time we’ve rented from Alamo at DFW, we’ve gotten some kind of upgrade, from a compact to a van or SUV. That’s why we always come back to them.

Posted in neighborhood

Each one unique: all those mailboxes

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Nikolay Loubet on Unsplash

During a recent walk, I marveled at the variety of mailboxes in front of the homes in the neighborhood. It seems like no two are alike. That’s amazing given that I walk past hundreds of houses on a usual two-and-a-half mile trek.

Black, white, and shades of brown dominate. But there’s also teal, forest green, gray, and rust red (literally rust-covered). Some are wrapped with patterns or pictures.

I’ve noticed a few ornamented with turtles, small black bears, pelicans, flamingos, lizards, eagles, fish, manatees, and mermaids.

Some look like small houses. Others are covered with vines and flowers. Colleges are well represented, along with branches of the military. Seasonal flags hang from some, while others have small flower boxes.

The boxes are supported by bricks, wood, concrete, chrome, miniature lifeguard chairs, metal poles, and 4×4 timbers.

Even though few people get the newspaper delivered, a quarter of the mailboxes have a newspaper slot. Those who get the paper usually have to pick it up off the driveway anyway.

Some mailboxes have locks. I’ve never had mail stolen. Some are just the opposite: the door has fallen off. Some of those folks don’t check their mail very often. I can see rain-soaked, sun-dried bills in them.

Almost all have numbers, affixed at all different angles. One had the address written out in longhand with paint. I’ve only seen two with the family name on them.

The majority are a standard height. With a chuckle I pass one that’s only two feet tall. To be fair, that could be for someone in a wheelchair. Over time, many have started leaning forwards, backwards, and side to side, some at crazy angles.

In some communities, all the mailboxes are together in the middle of a block. I think I’d miss all the creative ways people receive their mail.

Posted in Life, night

In the wrong place at the wrong time?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Eugene Triguba on Unsplash

It happens on an early morning walk with my dog (big dog, little dog, or all of the above), while it’s still dark. Or on an evening walk after the sun has set.

I see the headlights of an approaching car. Or I see light from a car coming up behind me. I walk close to the edge of the road. We have no curbs or sidewalks in our community, so I get right up to the edge of the grass.

I slow to let the car pass. The car slows down. I look down so I’m not blinded by the lights. Or I glance back, wondering if they see me. As I cross in front of a driveway, that is the very driveway the car enters. Of all the driveways on the road, I am in the middle of that one when someone arrives at their home.

This happens more often than not. So I wonder, “Is it coincidence?” Why did our paths converge at that moment? Am I in their way? Or are they in mine? I could have walked a little faster. They could have driven slower. Why did we meet at that hour, minute, and second?

It happens once or twice a week. Too often to be coincidence. But there’s no rhyme or reason to the encounter. It’s pure irony that the moment I walk past a driveway, those residents are pulling in.

Sometimes I am really annoyed by this. Why now? Why didn’t you drive a little faster? Why didn’t I leave a little later? Why are you in my space – or why am I in yours?

I imagine they ask similar questions. “What is he doing here so early in the morning?” “Doesn’t this guy ever sleep in?” “Give me a break. I just worked the overnight shift. Get out of the way.”

Posted in coffee

Cash is still king

Posted on by William Douthwaite

This is where I wait while the little dog is groomed. Fortunately, I had a bit of cash in my wallet, so I could get my latte with an extra shot.

This is a sign no one wants to post or see.

I asked my barista how it was going. She said, “The system’s been down since yesterday. Whenever we tried to take payment, the whole system froze up.” From in back of her I heard the manager say, “They’re supposed to come within four hours to fix an issue.” She was not happy.

All was not lost. You could order and pay via the app, and then pick up. But walk-in and drive-up was cash or no coffee.

We are so dependent on technology. It takes little to bring a coffee shop to its knees.

Everyday I read stories about AI taking over the world and making human life irrelevant and disposable. I think we’ve got some wiggle room for now. If someone pulls the plug, or the wifi goes down, or cell service is interrupted, it all falls apart.

At least for now.

Lots of lessons learned. Carry cash. Be flexible. Expect the unexpected. Trust your backup plan.

And most importantly, keep drinking coffee.

Posted in insects

Dragonfly encounter

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I noticed this impressive insect hitching a ride on the van as I got ready to leave this morning. With a nice four inch wingspan, I doubt he really needed transportation. He was probably just taking a break.

You need some dragonfly trivia, don’t you? Here you go, mostly from the Smithsonian magazine.

  • Dragonflies eat hundreds of mosquitos each day. That’s why they are always welcome in my yard. They are effective hunters, catching ninety-five percent of their prey.
  • Dragonflies can fly straight up and down and backwards at up to thirty-five miles per hour. They can hover, too, so they can even mate in midair.
  • Adult dragonflies only live a few weeks or possibly a month. Maybe that’s why I don’t see them around very often.
  • With lens-covered spherical eyes on top of their body, dragonflies have 360-degree vision.
  • Fossil records of prehistoric dragonflies show some species to have two-foot wingspans!

Their size always startles me, but dragonflies are no threat and nice to have around.

Posted in trash

After being inside all this time, a week in the Florida sun

Posted on by William Douthwaite

The trash collectors only take large items, like furniture and appliances, on Fridays. So when this chair showed up on the curb on Saturday morning, I knew we’d get a lot of good looks all week long. The hot sun and soaking rains will have a full six days to take their best shot at finishing off this recliner. It certainly adds to the charm of the neighborhood, doesn’t it?

It’s a long shot, but someone may take this chair home before the workers compress it in the back of the garbage truck. It’s not in horrible shape. Yet. Passing dogs haven’t yet stopped to mark it. Ants may make their way into the stuffing. Birds perched on the power line above may leave droppings. Once water seeps in metal will rust and mold will grow.

How long ago did those neighbors buy this chair? It’s hard to tell. Would genuine leather discolor in that way? Do you think they tried to sell it at a garage sale or online marketplace? Some thrift stores will pick up used items, but they are picky about condition. I doubt this recliner would make the cut.

So how do you get rid of old furniture? I’ve seen the trash guys pick up sofas, dressers, sectionals, mattresses and box springs, refrigerators, washers, driers, freezers, dishwashers, hot water heaters, dining room sets, desks, lamps, lawn mowers, bathtubs, vanities, doors, countertops, and microwaves. A recliner? No big deal.

Posted in music

Back in the balcony, back on the horn

Posted on by William Douthwaite

It’s been four years since I played trumpet for Easter Sunday. After that hiatus, I’m at a new church that has a pipe organ in the balcony with a talented organist. I introduced myself and said, “If you a trumpet player for Easter, I’m willing to play.” She immediately accepted my offer, got me some music, and we set up a rehearsal time.

As we ascended the steps into the loft, I thought, “It’s been fourteen years since I played in a church balcony.” That was for my son’s wedding. In the meantime, I usually played hymns and descants for Easter worship. But since my retirement, I didn’t have those opportunities. Until this year.

I started getting into shape after Christmas, hoping I’d have the chance to play. Playing at home is different than playing in a church. At home, my sound easily fills the bedroom where I practice. In an empty sanctuary, standing in a balcony, in front of ranks of organ pipes, it’s different.

As a rehearsal begins, I fight the temptation to over blow, thinking I have to fill the room with sound. I forget how far the sound of a trumpet carries. I’m behind the sound, not out in the space. It’s hard to relax, getting used to a new accompanist.

But after a few minutes, it feels familiar. Air fills horn and the pipes. Music fills the air. I can feel the vibrations from the big pipes. From the corner of my eye, I follow the head and shoulders of the organist. The notes fit together. It’s thrilling and motivating. I love this.

What an enjoyable gift from the Lord to be able to make music. What a gift to give it back to the Lord, too!

Posted in optimism, productivity

What if it turns out great?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Sticker it on Unsplash

I just learned that “overthinking” is a thing. Overthinking is when you can’t stop dwelling on past failures, constantly worry about the future, and accumulate worst-case scenarios in your head to the point where you can’t make decisions.

I don’t think I’m an overthinker. I tend to be decisive.

However, I don’t think it’s unusual for someone to be so afraid of failing, sees all the things that could go wrong, and find the cloud to accompany every silver lining.

That’s why I really like this quote from Tori Simokov. “If you’re going to overthink, at least overthink all the ways it could work out in your favor, all the best case scenarios, and every version of your life that turns out better than expected.” (Who’s Tori Simokov? I don’t know. I forget where I read this, but I think she’s a travel blogger. I jotted this down and figured I should give her credit.)

What if this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted? What if I absolutely love this experience? What if this is my breakthrough moment? What if this is a moment I’ll never forget?

That’s all it takes to turn your mind upside down, isn’t it? What if we changed all our “what ifs” into positive possibilities?

Posted in driving

King of the (lizard) world

Posted on by William Douthwaite

It’s kind of hard to see, but this little guy is perched on the hood of our car as I backed out of the driveway and headed down the street. He skittered out from under the windshield wipers and stood up like a small hood ornament.

I wondered out loud, “How fast do you think I can go before he flies away?” I couldn’t accelerate much in the neighborhood. But maybe he’d hold on until we got on a bigger road. Or maybe even the interstate. Wouldn’t it be fun to have that wind in your face?

I didn’t get to find out. He didn’t hang on very long. He scooted over to the edge of the hood and disappeared over the side.

I’ll bet he could have hung on. He can climb up the walls of our house, trees in the yard, up the slats of the fence, and he had no problem getting up on to the hood.

Had I stepped on the gas sooner, I could have given him a “king of the world” moment, right?