Weekend in Wonderland
This last weekend before Christmas has been one of the strangest, most aggravating weekends I’ve ever experienced. It rates as second only to the five days of homelessness before we were able to buy the house last May.
The weekend began on Friday. With the volume of wet snow that has been unleashed on western Washington over the last week, I have taken to driving Raven in to her office. This is the same Raven who, while creeped out watching the Rankin Bass “Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer”, commented, “When are they going to shoot Bambi?” On Friday afternoon the snowfall began again, and Rav grew quite anxious about our planned date in Seattle to watch The Nutcracker Ballet. After some effort I got her to relax and trust that I would be able to make the drive without any problems.
The drive north was flawless. There was very little traffic, and I5 was clear enough to drive without worrying about snow and ice. I navigated my way through downtown Seattle to the parking structure without a single problem. I had to run across the street to get some cash to pay for parking, but that was no big deal.
McGraw Hall is a beautiful venue with a large glass wall looking out over the rest of the Seattle Center complex. The complex itself is quite interesting, hosting the Space Needle, the Key Arena, and the EMP (Experience Music Project) which I refer to as what the crap would look like if your dog ate the Christmas wrapping paper. Wandering through the large open foyer, we made our way to the end to grab dinner at the Savor restaurant. Following a sumptuous meal we made our way into the hall and enjoyed the ballet. Raven was entranced! The intermission found us back at Savor enjoying a Huckleberry Crème Brule and hot chocolate.
After the show ended, around 9:30 PM, we made our way back to the car. And here our story takes its first twist. The rear passenger side tire was completely flat. The rear drivers side tire was quite low. We weren’t going anywhere for a little while.
I pulled out my portable powered pump, started the car, plugged the pump into the power socket next to the drivers’ seat, and began adding air to the passenger side tire. Raven took her seat inside the car to stay warm. After a few minutes, Rav got out of the car to see how things were going. And she shut her door. Locked.
After scrambling around checking to make sure that no doors were unlocked, then cooling down after breaking the hubcap and telling my wife how thoughtful it was for her to lock her car door, I got on the phone with AAA. During the call I discovered that the tire was in fact punctured, and prying one of the metal bits out that was embedded in the tire I figured it looked like a broken bit of snow chain. Hope on the AAA front looked rather grim. I was told the truck would be there within 2-3 hours due to weather delays! Keep in mind, it was about 25 degrees. So off to the nearby pub we went to bide the time.
We ordered a cup of tea and large cut fries. I would have loved to eat them, but the AAA driver called me before the order came through saying he would be there in a few minutes! We weren’t going to be stranded after all! That, of course, was presupposed on the damage to the driver side tire being negligible, and us being able to find a place to stay overnight.
The truck pulled up next to the car, and the driver got busy with his tools. First attempting to pry back the upper part of the car door with the air cushion he uses, we were both dismayed to discover the cushion itself was popped! So he had to resort to a couple of prying wedges to create the needed gap. With a long metal bar, he reached in and flicked open the door lock. Step one, done. The key firmly clasped in my hand, I popped the trunk and extricated the donut style spare tire. The mechanic quickly swapped that tire-ette into place and proceeded to ensure there was enough air in it. Step 2 done. Moving around to the drivers side, we looked at the low tire and determined that it was not in fact punctured. After the mechanic filled the tire with air we were done.
As 11:30 rolled around we thanked the mechanic, and waved as he continued on to his next call. With great trepidation we climbed back into the car and slowly made our way back home. 50 miles on a donut tire at 35 MPH on snow covered roads is tremendously stressful!
Friday, thank God, was over. On Saturday I pulled out my repair kit and plugged the two holes in the tire. Giving the glue some time to cure, I remounted the full size tire to the car, then went looking to buy new tires. Oh, and snow chains.
The hunt for snow chains had me driving all over town. Sears, Costco, AutoZone, Firestone, Target… nobody had chains for my car! While I was hunting, Raven was shopping. She needed to stop by a craft store to pick up materials for her childrens choir at church. So I, having given up on snow chains, started on the road towards home and stopped by the nearest Michaels. When I got back into the car the cushion of snow prevented me from hearing that something had fallen from my pocket.
Sunday morning the roads were covered with snow again: fresh, wet, thick snow. Driving to church we fishtailed, side-slid, snow plowed, and skied our way into town. When stopping to pickup kids, we actually got stuck! While I pushed, Rav took the wheel, and with a little help from a neighbor we got the car turned around and got again. Of course, at that point I jacked up my back.
Finally safe at church, Raven gathered her choir together and began practicing the song they were to sing during the meeting. Of course her phone rang (it would… when we’re so busy telling the kids to get off their phones). The caller had my Phunkey mobile phone! She was pulling out from Michaels and had noticed the phone laying in the snow. Going through my contact list she called my wife to let us know. We talked a little bit and worked out that she would drop the phone off at the house. So I explained where the house was – in the Autumn Woods by Quadrant homes. She said, “Really? I was buying a house there until I found something that worked better for us in Puyallup! What street?” I told her our house was on 50th street. She was quite surprised as she was building on 50th! In fact, the house that she had ordered before backing out of is three doors down from our house!
And with that, I will end this letter. It has been one very strange weekend, and I am glad it is over.
God bless you, and Merry Christmas!
