Author: William Douthwaite

Posted in coffee, Life, waiting

Another impressive coffee machine

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Every time I take my car in the service at the dealer, they’ve upped their coffee game. Here’s a picture of their latest machine featuring espresso, cappuccino, latte, and mocha. Plus, a couple of things I’ve never seen before: a vanilla steamer and a chocolate shot. It served up a delicious latte in less than thirty seconds. Nicely done!

I’ve written about coffee machines before. Waiting areas have come a long way from the days of a single glass carafe one quarter full of burnt-tasting day-old coffee.

Which on this day was good because I had to wait about 2-1/2 hours for some simple service on my car. I had an appointment and the service bay didn’t look busy, but it too them a while before they got around to my oil change and tire rotation. Maybe it was because this was the car’s first service, so it was free.

But I can’t complain too much. I took advantage of the free snacks, including cookies, chips, crackers, granola bars, and fruit. No I didn’t eat all of those. I was polite. I only took one bag of popcorn chips to munch on while watching some home improvement TV episodes.

Eight service advisors were busy on computers. They received service customers, called about insurance, took payment for completed work, and discussed repair options. I suppose snacks and beverages takes the edge off having to get work done, which always costs more than you expect.

Posted in Life

A generous stranger or a suspicious character?

Posted on by William Douthwaite

The big dog and I met another interesting person on our walk yesterday. The Independence Day dawn was quiet as we made our way through the sports complex and headed home.

Just down the road, I saw a young man riding toward us on his bike, holding a couple of fishing rods. I pass guys like him all the time, usually fishing off small bridges over the drainage canals.

As we got closer, he stopped and seemed to be waiting for us. But rather than being impressed by the giant dog, he asked, “Would you like a free fishing pole?” I was impressed by his ability to ride a bike holding not a couple but three rods.

I smiled and replied, “No thank you.” Even if my hands weren’t full of dog leash and a blue bag of poop, I would have declined. I just sold a couple of unused fishing poles in a garage sale since it turns out fishing doesn’t really interest me.

Part of me immediately thought, “He’ll probably ask for money.” Been there; done that. “Here’s something free…how about a few bucks?” I don’t know where he got them. Maybe he was being generous. Maybe he was selling dad’s stuff to get a few bucks. Maybe fishing didn’t interest him, either.

I hate it when I feel suspicious of someone I’ve just met or don’t know, who poses no threat to me. I want to think positively about people, but somewhere I learned not to trust…anyone. I don’t like feeling that way.

And now that I’ve uploaded the above picture, I see he was riding his bike in bare feet. He’s more daring than me!

Posted in cookies, Food, Life

Taste-free cookies?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Anita Austvika on Unsplash

I actually went into the bank last week to get change for a twenty from a teller. I don’t do it often, but I wanted some smaller bills to pay for my haircut plus a tip.

Anyway, I’ve known one of the tellers there for a long time, and when I waved, she asked, “Are you still making cookies?” Of course we are. Our little cottage cookie business is doing okay. (Backseatgracebakery.com)

There was no one else in line, so we had a quick conversation. She told me her youngest daughter had asked about cookies. It might have been for a birthday or graduation. She quickly added, “But she’s got all those allergies.”

I said, “Well, we’ve made gluten-free, dairy-free cookies for my daughter-in-law.” Gluten-free flour is easy to find. We’ve also used plant-based butter in some recipes.

“How about nut-free and egg-free?”

“Well, I’ll have to make sure the flavoring has no nut products.” In my head I’m wondering if there is an egg substitute.

I texted my wife about the possibility of making gluten-free, dairy-free, egg-free, and nut-free cookies. She replied, “Sure, but they’re taste-free.”

I can’t even imagine navigating this world with that many food-based allergies. You’d carry an epipen with you at all times, just in case. I would make all my own food, so I knew what the ingredients were. How could you ever go to a restaurant?

I don’t think she’ll be ordering cookies from us. We can do it, but the ingredients are pricey and the product isn’t tasty. Plus, our kitchen isn’t completely gluten-free, nut-free, dairy-free, and egg-free. The liability would be overwhelming.

We do have a rolling pin that we only use for gluten-free flour. We bought it when our niece came to visit so we could make some quiche for her. We keep that rolling pin in a zip lock bag for those times when we need to be gluten-free.

Plant-based butter is a little greasier than real butter. The cookies are look a little gray, but taste pretty good when flooded with delicious icing.

How do you cater to clientele for whom every day eating is a hazard? I’m not sure you can.

Posted in Life, movies

A whole different movie experience

Posted on by William Douthwaite

My wife and I had a chance to go see a movie the other night. For a few weeks we had wanted to see “Mission Impossible: Final Reckoning”, the eighth and final chapter of the series.

When I went to buy our tickets online, I was surprised to find only three rows of seats to choose from. I thought, “Maybe the rest of the theater is sold out.” I nabbed a couple of good seats. (More on that later.) I knew we would buy popcorn, so when I was offered the chance to buy some along with our tickets, I added it to our checkout total.

I saw very few people as we walked into the movie complex. An attendant scanned my online tickets, and we headed towards the concessions. When I arrived, a young person handed me a large bag of popcorn. When my tickets were scanned, the concessions got a notification, bagged up my popcorn, and met me at the counter. Impressive.

I forgot to put a drink into my wife’s purse, so we had to buy one there. You don’t order from a live person. You poke a finger at a kiosk, scan a credit card, and someone brings a bottle of water to you. Again, impressive.

The reason I only had three rows from which to choose seats is our theater only had three rows of comfy reclining seats. We were in the back row, but we had great seats. I’ll bet the whole theater only had forty comfy reclining seats. Nice.

What a different moviegoing experience. Assigned seats, comfy reclining seats, and no wait prepaid concessions. Going to the theater is a much different experience from buying a ticket at a window, waiting in line for popcorn, and finding an unoccupied seat.

I think I like it.

Posted in Life

You’re early

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I thought I was doing the right thing. As the mileage on the new car passed nine thousand miles and the oil life percentage sunk to twenty percent, I made an appointment for service. I feared I had waited too long. But it turns out I acted too soon.

When I first started driving, oil changes came every 3,500 miles. As recently as 2003, that was the recommended service interval for our Chevy Traverse. However, in the world of Honda, the mileage lenthened to five thousand miles or so. That was nice, until a service manager told me to wait till the oil life percentage hit thirty before I brought it in. It took seven to eight thousand miles to hit that mark.

So when our newest car, a 2025, hit eight thousand miles, I though I was close. But the oil life was still at 50%. Okay, I guess I had more time. I checked it every week or so, and finally it go to thirty percent. I made an appointment and brought it in.

After I found my seat in the waiting room, the service representative came over to ask if the maintenance light had gone on.

I anwered, “No. But I figured I was at the right mileage.”

Unless the maintenance light comes on, Honda doesn’t want to see you for service. The service rep said, “I’ll have to see if we can get you in.”

When I asked for more information, he explained, “Sensors know your driving habits, and when you’ll need service.” In other words, the car will let me know when it’s time.

In a sense, here’s an example of artificial intellegence getting a foothold in my decision making process. The machine controls me. I respond to its prompts.

I suppose a self-driving car could take itself in for service. I would not be involved.

That’s a little scary. i used to change my own oil and filters. I used to do my own tuneup.

I’ve almost been replaced.

Posted in faith

Relationships instead of pamphlets

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Out of the corner of my eye I see what looks like a stack of Benjamins. That can’t be legit. Not out in the middle of my driveway.

Sure enough, it’s a marketing trick. Small books with hundred dollar bill covers are in every driveway on our street. And it’s not just a wrapped stack of hundreds. It’s a $1,000,000 bill. Pretty clever. Gets your attention for sure.

The book? A King James Version of the Gospel of John. It’s an evangelistic effort by a group who wanted to get God’s word into every driveway in town. I can’t help but wonder: Is this what Jesus wanted his followers and his church to do?

A small shopping newspaper hits my driveway each weekend. I doubt that anyone reads them. They sit in driveways, week after week, simply disintegrating in the sun, rain, and traffic. Ironically, a cleaning company advertises their services by littering yards with zip lock bags of small stones and business cards. Few are opened, most end up in the trash.

So, lets add another small bag of trash to the landscape. Someone will open it, read it, and their life will be changed. If that happens, the verdict will be, “It was worth it.”

Really? Is that the best the church can do? Rather than engaging people in conversation, getting to know them, and talking about faith, we’ll trash up the neighborhood and hope that it makes a difference.

That’s not what the apostles did. They talked to people, helped them, and personally shared their faith with those who didn’t know about Jesus. They put themselves out there, like Jesus did, to disseminate good news.

I will never discount the power of God’s Word. But if you aren’t willing to get to know someone, care about them, and show them what love looks like, throwing a bunch of bibles at the world won’t do much good. The word of God became flesh for a reason. We need relationships much more than we need another book on the shelf or pamphlet on the street.

By the way, that weekly shopping newspaper finally went out of business. Thirty years ago, it was the place to learn about garage sales and contractors. In the last few years, it shrunk in size to just a few pages. Last week’s edition came with the announcement of it’s final printing. From now on, you could read it digitally. It also came with an envelope just in case you wanted to send money to the now unemployed delivery people.

Posted in dogs

We are safe and sound

Posted on by William Douthwaite

The barking was incessant. Yip, yip, yip, yip, yip. What in the world is going on out there? I looked out the window at the little dog (Winston, the White West Highland Terrier) aggressively yapping at a spot in the grass.

I had to go out and see. It was probably a lizard. Or part of one. Wrong. It looked like a mouse. How in the world did he catch a mouse? Wait. That’s not a mouse. It’s a mole. Winston had caught or found a squinty-eyed, pointy-snouted, long-clawed mole somewhere in our backyard. A mole? I’ve never seen a mole in our yard. Where in the world did you find it? I scooped it up and tossed it over the fence. You’re not going to torment him (or her) any more.

I got back into the house to find the big dog (Willow, the Great Dane) barking and scratching at the porch floor. Now what? I called her away only to find a dead lizard on his back, covered in drool. Great. Just what I need. I tossed him (or her) over the fence.

Suddenly, these dogs who spend most of the afternoon snoozing have channeled their inner hunter and pursued the latest predators in our yard. They have successfully protected their home from invaders!

Posted in Life

An unexpected early morning treat

Posted on by William Douthwaite

The big dog (Willow the Great Dane) and I got out for our walk at sunrise on Thursday. Just around the bend from our house we passed a young, tall, lean, bearded gentleman from the first house on the street. He was dressed for much cooler weather in a knit cap, long sleeve hoodie, and sweatpants. Really? It was already 78 degrees. Temperatures were on their way to the 90s. Welcome to Florida, buddy.

We’ve passed him many times on our walks. But today he had a red, white, and blue rocket popsicle hanging out of his mouth. His hands were on his phone as the frozen treat stuck out from his lips.

My first thought: Breakfast of champions! My second thought: wait a minute, you guys don’t have any kids. You have red, white, and blue popsicles at your house?

I like ice pops as much as the next guy. But I wouldn’t buy them if we didn’t have grandchildren frequenting our home. You’ll find them in our freezer because the little ones visit and stay at our house.

Nutritional value? None. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Water, sugar, and some artifical coloring. A quick burst of energy? Of course. Beyond that. Nothing.

I know, he’s probably thinking, “Dude, aren’t you cold (in shorts and a t-shirt)? Where’s your ice pop? (Costco has them by the case.) Come on, buddy, support your country! USA! USA!

We always say, “Hi,” when he walks by, but he never responds. He doesn’t even look up. His earbuds filter out us and the rest of the world.

It’s all about the popsicle.

Posted in trash

That’s no lady, just a dress form

Posted on by William Douthwaite

The big dog and I see a lot of interesting things on our walks. Late Thursday night, we passed by a home that has recently had interesting items on the curb for trash pickup.

I almost didn’t notice it. But my dog stopped to sniff something we don’t see everyday: a dress form. I chuckled and took a picture. I haven’t seen one of those for a long time.

My mom actually had one. She did a lot of sewing at home. I remember her laying paper patterns out on the floor and pinning fabric to them. She made a lot of clothes for herself and my sister. Apparently, dresses were easy; men’s clothes were more difficult. When she died, we found a whole dresser in the basement full of paper patterns she had used and saved over the years.

Anyway, on Friday morning, my wife texted me, “There’s a dress form out for the trash. Can you go get it?” She wanted to use it to display some clothes she wanted to sell online. So, we (the big dog and I) walked up the street and grabbed it. It was surprisingly light, not more than a few pounds.

Everytime I walked through the garage on Friday and Saturday, I was startled by what looked like a person standing there! It was spooky until I moved it into one of the bedrooms.

A few nights before I picked up a guitar from their trash. It wasn’t a quality guitar. Just a cheap one made in China you might find in Walmart. But it was in nearly new condition except for a broken string. I might restring it and give it away or donate it to Goodwill. Or I could teach a grandchild to play.

Today, I saw the U-Haul van in their driveway. The family is moving out of the rental. These are the same folks who have a living room lamp on their front porch, Christmas lights in the shape of a heart in the front window, and five or six free shopping newspapers in their driveway.

I wonder who we’ll get next in the neighborhood?