Okay, so here’s how my day started. Right now I’m sitting at the Honda dealer so I can get a $50 oil change. The Service Associate just darted over to get my phone number. I realize he needs my phone number so he can “communicate” about the progress of my oil change. I also tacked on a tire rotation and asked him to look into a “Check Tire Pressure” light that appeared on my dashboard yesterday. Now I am up to $150. I’ve just sat down in the waiting area for the third time and everyone surrounding me seems to be wondering why I keep needing to go back to the Service Desk. I guess it’s because I left my phone in the car – so now, the guy cannot “communicate” with me. After all, he’s only about 50 feet away from me.

So I let him know he can just walk over to communicate any progress or special circumstances – after all, this is only an oil change plus. He offers to get my phone out of the car. This sounds like a monumental task: they’ve already re-routed my car toward the Service bays where it will sit in a long queue. I know this because I am sitting among fourteen other patient, silent customers just tapping away at their phones. They all look like they’ve been here for hours. I am the only one writing. I imagine they are all nervously texting about the guy near them writing on a white writing pad, asking their friends or spouses if they think I might be writing a manifesto or something sinister like that.

The guy next to me keeps looking at his phone, then every few minutes he erupts in laughter, then sniffles. And I’m the crazy one? Probably watching crazy cat videos.

The morning began a bit differently too. At 5:00 a.m. or so (about five hours before I am writing this at the Honda dealership), the eclipse of a red moon appeared in the sky. I did not participate in this since at 5 a.m., my body and mind are dead to me as I enjoy my only solid sleep after fighting off the demons in my mind to even fall asleep. Yes, I am an insomniac and last night, discovered that many of my closest friends from high school are also sleep-challenged. Of course, we have the one friend who falls asleep at the drop of a hat and thus, he studiously reported to us all this morning the beauty of the moon at 5 a.m. Sure he was up at 5:00. He probably “elected” to fall asleep early last night to enjoy his lunar experience. The rest of us knew the moon would never take priority over ruining our sleep patterns for the next 40 or so nights.

But that is still not how my day began. Nope, today is Election Day. So I have three things to do today – vote, get to Honda and well, here we go on to the third thing. Our neighbors, John and Anne, are poll workers so they needed to get up and man the polls by 7 a.m. Two hours after the Red Moon Eclipse. John and Anne have one dog – BUT they temporarily have three dogs. Their daughter, Marie, shipped them her two dogs a month ago so that she could take some much-needed time off for travel. Our neighbors asked us to take in the dogs from their outside pen and into their house during the morning. No problem, right?

So my wife and I walk over to their back yard and of course, there were no dogs outside in the pen. This is Hour One of my day and I still need to vote, then get to Honda. I open up their back door and I am immediately swarmed by three large, enthusiastic dogs, thrilled that we have come to visit them. After five minutes of jumping and licking (no, I did not do the licking), we muscled these beautiful creatures outside and into their pen.

Then I went to vote. Of course the first person I see at the Polling Place is our neighbor, Anne. So I take her aside. After all, isn’t that what you’re supposed to do at the Polling Place, sequester one of the volunteers? I’m sure that somewhere, a SWAT team was preparing to descend on this little church and take me out. When did churches become polling places, anyway?

I said to Anne, “I’m confused” but she cut me off and said that she decided at 6:30 a.m. that since the Red moon was still in the sky, she wasn’t sure how it might affect the dogs, so instead she kept them in. Glad we cleared that up. A note or a text would have sufficed but hey, I get it. You’ve gotta get to the polls!

We eventually came up with a new boarding plan, right there at the Polling Place, at the church. I voted quickly, then left. Now I had to relay the new boarding plan to my wife so I could get to Honda.

So here I sit waiting patiently for Dave or Jim or whatever his name is to communicate some oil change progress to me. Nothing yet. I guess that’s good because usually, every time they provide you an update, your bill seems to grow by $150 or so, as they do their “discovery” or “due diligence” or whatever they call it these days on your precious car.

Soon I’ll be heading back home. It’s only 11:15 as I write this and we’ve got a big day ahead. My son Alex is coming over to lend me a 7/64 Allen wrench so that I can attack my leaky kitchen faucet to replace the cylinder or cartridge or whatever it is called. When the hell did kitchen faucets stop needing washers and rubber gaskets and begin needing new cylinders after only four years? I thought cylinders would only be something that my Honda guy might be telling me about.

Then we will have to decide about the dogs. Remember them? We’ve been tasked with routing them back into the house for a “break” from outside (the temperature is in the high 50s) and then taking them back out again for their “afternoon poop” at about 4 p.m.

Thank God I love dogs. They are a joy and when they see me and jump and bark in enthusiasm, I get a real high too. It’s been on my mind for a while now to get a dog. I grew up with several dogs, various German Shepherds. But we haven’t had a dog since our Australian Shepherd who we tragically lost back in 1998.

So the three dogs of my neighbors have kindled in me the desire to adopt two large dogs. But my wife and I, now retired two years, like to travel; so we need to navigate how that might work. There was a great TV commercial back in the 1980s for Stroh’s beer. In the ad, a dog named Alex (no, not my son Alex) is asked by his owner to retrieve a beer from the fridge while he is playing poker with his friends. Alex (the dog) was a beauty. He was a gorgeous blend: one-half Labrador Retriever and the other half Irish Setter. I got to meet him and got my picture taken with him at a big trade show / convention I was attending back in 1987. I still have that picture on the table where I display my favorite photographs of my parents, sisters and other family along with my closest friends. So, for Alex the Strohs dog to gain a space on that table tells you a lot.

I will try to locate another dog like Alex. But if I bring that photo of me and Alex the Strohs dog, I fear the adoption places will will turn me away, saying, “we need people who appreciate the dogs we have here, dammit!” I suppose I better leave that photo home since I’ll know the right dog anyway. It will be the one who jumps up high when he or she sees me and starts excitedly barking. We will both know.

I’m still at Honda and I still haven’t received one update or “communication.” But soon I will arrive home, let the neighbor’s dogs back in, try the 7/64 Allen wrench that Alex the son brings me, discover that it doesn’t work because nothing ever works when I try to repair it, call the damn plumber which I should have done anyway a week ago, and then begin thinking about lunch. Lunch! I’ve just described a whole day of activity, foibles and waiting and I haven’t even eaten lunch yet? Lordy, it’s great to be retired!

Chris Ebel
11/8/22

Multi-Exposure Photo credit: @mshobi