Posted in Life

Don’t do it – or else!

Posted on by William Douthwaite

The sign on the door threatened, “If you let anyone in through the front door when the owners are not present, you will be dismembered.”

Well, OK, I exaggerate. The sign didn’t say dismembered. If caught, you’d be charged an extra month’s membership fee.  

My insurance pays for a gym membership, so I found a 24-hour place a few miles from my home and got back into weightlifting after years of mostly bodyweight HIIT workouts. The owners are on-site from 11 am to 7 pm during the week. The rest of the time, members enter with a fob that unlocks the front door.

I guess some were letting nonmembers in to work out for free, so one morning, a very specific sign was on the front door. Don’t do it. Don’t let anyone in when the owners aren’t here. Or else.

I wasn’t there to work out, but the first time I stopped by to look at the gym, someone let me in the door. They simply said, “The owners aren’t here right now.”

The business is small enough that the owners know all the members. One of them must have stopped by unexpectedly and discovered some non-members working out.

Anyway, I was in the middle of some squat sets when I saw a couple at the front door, reading the sign and peering in the window. A large man got up and let them in through the door with the threatening sign.

They were dressed in workout clothes, but they didn’t stay. “We’ll come back a little later.”

That’s the way it is, right? Rules don’t deter. If a sign is up long enough, soon you won’t notice it anymore. Locked doors pique curiosity rather than keeping someone out. Warnings are for sissies, right?

There’s another sign at the gym: “Rack your weights – in the right place.” Naturally, when I walk in the floor is littered with plates, collars, bars, and dumbbells. When an owner arrives, he spends thirty minutes picking up and putting away equipment. You do what you have to do.

Although I tend to be a “rules” kind of guy (I always put my weights away), I have my kryptonite. I’ll always flip a light switch with a piece of tape over it to see what happens. I like to check out rooms labeled “Employees only.” Are we past the expiration date? I say, “Let’s see if it still tastes good.”

Posted in dogs

“Am I the only one who doesn’t know what the ‘trots’ are?”

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by fatty corgi on Unsplash

Kathy, the receptionist at our veterinarian hails from Scotland and was delighted the first time I brought our newly adopted Westie, Winston, in for a checkup. He picked up on her accent and could hardly contain himself. She made a point of coming out to say hello, so glad to greet a “country cousin.”

The visit was cut short as a gentleman brought an older dog through the front door. She whispered, “This one’s not too friendly. Keep hold of your leash.”

The patient didn’t seem aggressive. No wonder: her owner had drugged her up with some Trazadone in preparation for today’s visit. She hardly paid attention to the other dogs and cats in the waiting room. Returning to her desk, Kathy asked, “Did you bring in a sample?”

“No. We’ve been walking around for the last half hour, and nothing.” Of course. She was there because of an hourly need to poop. Now? Nada.

As they sat in a different section of the waiting room, Kathy told us a story about the young man sitting with her, answering most of the incoming phone calls. She shared how he recently put a caller on hold to ask, “What are the ‘trots’?”

Every cat and dog owner in the waiting room laughed out loud.

Embarrassed but a good sport, he asked, “Am I the only one who doesn’t know what the ‘trots’ are?”

I said, “I think it’s a clinical term” and we all laughed a little more.  

We’ve got plenty of euphemisms to describe this bodily function. I hear new ones all the time. So I guess we can give him a pass for not knowing what the ‘trots’ are.

Posted in Life

Nine reasons I’m looking forward to autonomous cars

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Roberto Nickson on Unsplash

As I was driving around today, I thought of a number of reasons why I will enjoy autonomous cars on the road in the near future.

  • These cars will use signals for all right and left turns and lane changes. I know I’m not the only one dismayed by the rare use of the turn signal.
  • Self-driving cars will not roll through stop signs nor will they run red lights. I pause when the light turns green. Too many cars have sped across my path in defiance of a red light.
  • No autonomous cars will be riding my butt on the highway. They will maintain a safe and reasonable distance behind me. That will be refreshing.
  • That’s because they will be driving the speed limit. They will not be pushing the envelope to see how fast they can go.
  • Self-driving cars will not cut me off in town or on the highway. They will not weave in and out through traffic.
  • They will park amazingly well. Straight and between the lines. What, no dings on the door? And not on my front lawn.
  • They will go when the light turns green. Self-driving cars will not be distracted by phones or kids, but will pay attention to the traffic signals.
  • No autonomous car will be driving fifteen miles per hour below the highway speed limit either.
  • And they will all know where they are going. They won’t ignore wrong way signs and turn into incoming traffic. They won’t crawl through town looking for a street. GPS will guide them right where they need to go.

We’ll be in self-driving cars sooner than we think. Is that a good thing? We’ll soon find out.

Posted in Life

Behind locked doors

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash

I had to go to a lawyer’s office yesterday to sign a piece of paper. It wasn’t out of my way. I went there while running some other errands in the area.

The office was located in a large suite of offices. At least six buildings surrounded a large parking lot, each housing twelve professional offices.

I found the right one without any trouble. As I walked in the door, I expected to see a nice entrance to a law office. Once inside, though, I found two white doors and a stairway leading up the stairs. The firm’s name was etched on a simple black plastic sign on one of the doors. At least I was in the right place.

When I tried the door, it was locked. I had called ahead of time and they told me when they would be open. Puzzle, I read the very small sign over the doorknob, “Ring for entrance.” I pushed the button, expecting an electronic lock to open for me. When I tried the door again – nothing.

I heard someone talking from inside. They must have been on the phone. They said, “Can you hold on a minute?” About fifteen seconds later, the bolt turned and the door opened. A friendly face greeted me. “How can I help you?”

I explained who I was and followed her in. The office was nice but simple. Not nearly as fancy as I expected. It wasn’t a rough part of town, but I suppose you have to be careful. You don’t want just anyone walking in the door unless you’re expecting them. More and more places keep their doors locked.

I’ve encountered locked doors when I’ve stopped by doctor’s offices, churches during the week, certain floors of a hospital, hotel fitness rooms, and some public bathrooms. I wish so many good things didn’t have to be secured behind locked doors.

Posted in grandfather, grandparenting, Life

A remarkable find: the skeleton of a dead lizard

Posted on by William Douthwaite

“There’s something in here!”

My four-year-old grandson decided to get into the ball basket on our porch. He still fits, but just barely. To fit, he had to toss out each ball, and work his way to the bottom of the 2×2 foot basket.

He threw out fuzzy snowballs from some Christmas in the past. Plastic baseballs we used to hit in the yard. Pimple balls – inflatable balls covered with little bumps. Various colored balls that every grandchild played with as babies. Balls that light up when you bounce them on the ground. A couple of soccer balls we kick around the backyard. A little basketball with dog teeth marks in it. Little balls that roll down chutes.

He unearthed Andy and Annie (from Toy Story). And “something.” He was almost at the bottom of the basket when he came upon something he couldn’t identify.

I went over to see what he had found. It was awesome. It was the dried skeletal remains of a lizard.

Yes, this is awesome on many levels.

First, it means that the lizard who had been living on our porch, who we could never catch or expel for the porch, was an ex-lizard.

Second, just look at this guy. You can see his whole skeleton. LIttle boys and grandpas get a lot of joy from skeletons, lizard, dinosaur, or human.

Third, he’s dried and preserved. We could take him home and keep him along with other treasures we’ve accumulated. We’ll put him on a shelf or in a drawer. Mom will never find out.

Have you ever gone to a museum or a science center to see the dinosaur skeletons? They are huge, awesome, and memorable. On a smaller scale, we have our own dinosaur-esque bones. We can start our own museum or road-side attraction!

I think this is one of the reasons grandfathers are so important. Moms will scream, “Get that thing out of here. Now go wash your hands!” Grandmothers will call for grandfathers to take care of the skeletal invaders. Dads will say, “Go ask your mom if you can keep it.” But grandpa (aka moi) will come up with all kinds of cool reasons why you should take it home and keep it.

Posted in Life

A close encounter of the garage door kind

Posted on by William Douthwaite

This is a brand new house in our neighborhood. With a brand new dent in the garage door. A work van, an SUV, and a pickup truck are usually parked in the three-car-wide driveway. The van usually occupies this spot.

I can’t help but wonder about the moment this happened.

  • You thought you had shifted into reverse, but you were in drive. A little tap on the gas and BOOM, you’ve smashed in the door.
  • It’s late. It’s dark. No moon in the sky. No one left the outside light on. And you were looking at your phone. It’s the perfect recipe for a close encounter with the garage door.
  • A few too many Coronas for Cinco de Mayo? Actually, I think it’s a Russian family. More likely a little too much vodka.
  • Did someone lose their temper? “Oh no you don’t. You aren’t going to lock me out the house.”
  • “This is a hurricane-proof door. Look, I show you. I’ll bring the bumper of the van right up to the door and you’ll see, it won’t buckle at all.”
  • “I told you there was something wrong with the brakes!”

Posted in Life

The miracle of this new day

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

When my bible study leader spoke a class-opening prayer, he thanked God for “the miracle of this new day.” For some reason, those words touched me and I jotted them down. How often do I consider “today” to be a miracle?

Today would not be, had not God created the first day and set time in motion. Today – any day – is a testimony to the Creator. Today – every day – is unlike any other. It never existed before. It will never happen again. When I wake up each morning, I don’t have to be on the lookout for miracles. I am in the miracle.

I would not be, had not God knit me together within my mother, and given me life and breath and everything else. When I wake up each morning, I don’t have to wonder if miracles still happen. My life is the miracle.

I suppose it’s easy to forget “the miracle of this new day” when you have woken up every morning for the last ten or forty or eighty years or more. I’ve gotten used to it. It doesn’t feel special.

So this simple petition is powerful. If this new day is miraculous, and my life is a miracle, then the miracle worker himself is alive and well and still at work in the world and in my life.

Posted in Life

You’re not going to let a little rain spoil the game, are you?

Posted on by William Douthwaite

It was an amusing scene at the t-ball fields the other night. Ten soaking-wet little boys were standing on the diamond in the rain. No one looked very happy to be there.

The other team valiantly tried to hit the ball off the tee. When someone made contact, the ball didn’t go very far, slowed by the wet grass and infield mud.

On each side, fans got wetter and colder, crowded under umbrellas, wondering when the coaches would call the game.

The coaches kept running through the lineup, teeing up the ball as the darker clouds moved across the sky. Every once in a while, they would look at each other, shrug, and bring up the next batter.

Finally, one coach waved his hand across his neck to stop the game. The thankful crowd rushed toward their cars.

The excited players made a beeline for the snacks. That’s what they came for and they were not about to be denied, no matter how bad the weather!

Posted in Life

Look at all those helicopters!

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Helicopters fill the skies. At least lately. With my grandson, a dog, and on a bike ride today, we’ve seen more helicopters lately. I hear them when they are far off. Sometimes they hover overhead. Other times they zip by in the air.

Sometimes it’s the medical helicopter going to a crash site or a trauma hospital. When I see or hear it, I always say a quick “Lord, have mercy” prayer. The folks who fly and staff those flights, as well as those they rescue, need our prayers.

Other times, it’s the local sheriff. Those helicopters fly slower, and circle around, usually looking for someone. I would not want to be one the run with someone up in the skies watching me.

Once in a while, some attack helicopters from the National Guard pass overhead. They move so fast that you’ll miss them if you aren’t paying attention. I am grateful for those who keep watch over our communities and nation.

I remember other helicopters that brought hundreds of gallons of water to put out fires near our community. It was a long time ago, but it was a scary time. I remember it well.

One day, I want to fly in a helicopter. I’ll probably be frightened out of my mind. But it will be really cool.