When I awoke that morning I looked in the red tray where I place my black cell phone at night. It was not there. Nor was it in any of the other places where I have discovered it on previous occasions. I now have several red saucers scattered about upon which to rest the black phone which has in the past been hard to find, considering the convenience offered by camouflaged resting places on the black leather furniture in my home.
I tried once again to reconnect Magic Jack which for three years has been a dismal excuse for a telephone service and succeeded only in reliving an old resentment.
I put out an email request to friends and family to call my cell phone , waited for half an hour and then left to do my radio show for which there was no replacement and decided to call the people to whom I had committed myself for the rest of the day. And, then I realized that my only storage of the necessary phone numbers was in the missing cell phone.
I dealt with this second hindrance by reprioritizing the remaining events of the day.
I traveled to the radio station, recorded that night’s show and began my trip on Highway 101; I would drive the thirty miles from Tempe to Pinnacle Peak, announce to those with whom I had planned to share the day, how or if they were still on mt itinerary..
Thirty minutes later I dealt with a third roadblock to success. I had been driving at 70 miles per hour when the left front tire blew out. I experienced no fear. I dealt with the problem like a trained Indy driver. I then sat there in the sweltering 104 degree temp which I hardly noticed. My focus was on the policeman or fellow citizen who would come along with a cell phone so I could call AAA. Two police cars whizzed by. Just as it occurred to me to attempt a tire change with a body still in discomfort from the ills of recent weeks, two Samaritans pulled up and offered to help. I replied that I needed a cell phone to call AAA.
“Nonsense” said Mike from Texas.” I and my friend Jeff from Nebraska will change the tire.” And they did.