Today I was taken to task for being angry by a long-time friend because I related a story rooted in reality. They wanted to know when I became so angry.
Well, I deleted their comment. Hey, it’s my timeline and I’m not hanging out to be judged by someone with all their own issues.
It was the second deletion of the week. I was deleted from a Navy group (just the comment, not my membership) because all the old codgers were bemoaning the Navy changing uniforms again.
Now, to be fair, my beloved Navy changes uniforms like some people change socks. But aside from their reckless waste of money over the years, this change at least introduces fire resistant uniforms into the fleet.
Style isn’t my forte. While I think the last few uniform changes were silly looking, I have to endorse not having your uniform melt to your skin in a fire. At any rate, all of the old farts were crying that they should bring back the dungaree uniform.
I liked the look of dungarees: prison chain gang with a Dixie Cup hat. Seriously, we looked like felons out for a day’s work. Best of all, they had pockets you were not allowed to use – we did anyway – for wallets and smokes. They always looked like hell when you travelled, and without a thorough ironing you seemed a mess at all times. But other than the fact they were flammable, looked like hell without a lot of maintenance, had crappy pockets, and were worn in several major correctional institutions they did have the joy of having been worn in countless motion pictures in the 20th century.
I remarked that if they were so wonderful (and made the points above) how many of the old men whining were wearing them that day? I personally wore jeans and a blue cotton shirt for over a decade as a work uniform in civilian life, but it was all cotton and didn’t stick to your skin in melty globs when you got near a fire. Fire is a big issue on ships – nowhere to run, you have to fight it.
Anywho, I had my comment deleted within hours. Fair enough. Similarly I am the moderator of my own page. I delete people as well. Sometimes because they are crude (funny, on the money, but not fit for the consumption of some of my current friends) and occasionally because they question my character. I am a sensitive, caring, urban male (now rural) and object to anyone saying I’m intolerant. So I delete them.
That about sums up this rant. Now, back to my usual Sunday activities.
I had only ever had one name for my cars until 2004: Agmobile. College nickname was AGZO, so the car was nicknamed the Agmobile by my brother who is now Dr. Courtemanche. That all changed with my red Ford Explorer which was nicknamed “The Sleigh” because Santa needed a red vehicle.
Also not my car, but same year and color. Only thing missing is the dents and crappy Ford paint job on the hood – every single one has that hood issue.
The yellow Xterra from Nissan a few years ago went for a long time without my naming it, because my wife had given it a girly name. It had developed a loose plate in the back after she forced it on me and made me buy her a new car (but I digress) and roared between 1200 and 1900 rpm. Thus, it was named “Buzzy” under my legacy because it sounded like an angry hornet. I loved that noise. It really annoyed the luxury car drivers who I blew past at the lights (Yes, a 16 year old lurks inside – and this deceptive old war wagon was fast out of the gate.)
Not my car, but the same year.
And now it changes again.
Meet “The Bloodmobile.” It’s a 2022 Kia Telluride in Sangria – blood for all you non Spanish speakers. But calling your car blood makes it sound like you’re in a bad 60’s movie about race relations. Bloodmobile has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?
Again, tediously, not my car but a Kia photo.
So, let me tell you about buying a car in Southwest Florida: it’s expensive. I shopped heavily, drove a test drive or three, and spent months limiting the list of competitors. I really wanted to buy American, but GM is out since they took the buyout during the recession a few years ago. They screwed their bondholders and ran with the loot.
Ford has effectively worked their way out of contention with terrible quality reviews the last few years, putting everything they can on a car chassis so they don’t have to engineer trucks for ride, and a price that’s just plain silly for what you get. Add to it the fact that almost every new car lot is empty of the models I might buy and – adios Ford.
Enter Kia/Hyundai. Kia is partially owned by Hyundai, and the cars are remarkably similar. The Hyundai version of this is the Palisade. The young man at the dealership was very cordial, even called to check on me after the hurricane in spite of the fact I’d told him I wouldn’t be buying a car from him- nice touch! I’ll keep you in mind…
I drove a Palisade: very nice vehicle. But all the reviews I read (dozens) gave Kia a little edge in customer satisfaction and a bonus of a few extra bells and whistles. Add in the new gear-shift (it doesn’t move, totally electronic) in the Hyundai and the fact that Kia assembles the Telluride in Georgia and the decision was made.
Now to the buying part. If you buy a car in my area, it will cost thousands more than if you make the 2 hour drive to the Miami area. Kip and I headed to Miami and went to Rick Case Kia – purportedly the largest dealer in the world. Or something.
Our salesperson Ryan was very cool. His sales approach is excellent and I’m sure he spotted me for a sucker right at the door. I haggle very well in Arabic, not so much in English. Anyway, he was very good, met my requirements for trade in on Buzzy and I bought a car.
I got the next-to-the-top model and let me tell you, it’s amazing. Two generations of technology have passed since Buzzy was made, and Buzzy was a base model with craptacular wheels, and nothing extra at all. I added fog lamps myself after a year, because they help in the snow. But short of counting the awful zebra-stripe seat covers my wife chose, it was very plain.
This here Bloodmobile drives itself. Truly. Set the cruise control and it will maintain distance from the car ahead of you and follow the road. If you have the guidance system on, it will anticipate curves and slow down going in, accelerate through, and resume speed on the other side. Me likey.
It is obnoxiously comfortable compared to Buzzy, mainly because Buzzy had the suspension of an ox-cart and the seats from a kid’s homebuilt go cart. I now have headroom and air-conditioned seats. Yeah, it’s that nifty.
I paid to get a great car and so far it is. The mileage is amazing when it’s in Eco mode (around 30) and if it’s in Sport mode you leave rubber at the intersection. Let me see your average SUV do that!
I will have more real pictures soon. This week has been busy. Working on voice over stuff, writing a book (more on that in a few weeks) and cooking up a storm making freezer meals for us and a neighbor who just had a baby. I love cooking and happytime is in the kitchen.
At any rate, one of my neighbors said they will miss Buzzy because they always knew it was me. I am not sure if that’s because of the color (screaming yellow) or the rattle.
Honest, I have two things to post, but time and brain damage prevent that until Friday. Hopefully sooner, but hang in there, there is a post coming this week.
Oy, such a load of blessings that I can’t keep up this week!
Right about the time my running shoes logged mile 12 on Monday the 3rd of October, I met Dave. He was hard to spot, hidden at the end of the carport and screened from easy view by a pile of cherished belongings that had been destroyed by Hurricane Ian. (Out of respect for Dave, and the others I met, I will only show photos of our volunteers and staff.)
Friday’s look: they asked me to come as Santa to hand out toys to the children. The ones who got flooded out with the storm surge had lost all their toys. Santa was a big hit with the little ones.
Setting up the mobile kitchen in Everglades City. I went there three times in the first four days to serve meals and hand out box lunches, MREs, toys and water.
As part of a Salvation Army disaster team, we were improvising as fast as the incident commander could come up with new ideas. I’ll get back to Dave in a minute, but the background is vital.
This was lunch on Friday. Fabulous quality turned out by the cooks in our kitchen.
Maria Ramos: she’s the great wheel around which my volunteer work revolves. One amazing lady.
I’ve been a volunteer for the Salvation Army since I moved to Florida. As Santa, I got to hand out the toys when they partnered with the Toys For Tots program. I’d started my Santa journey decades ago with the Marines as their Santa and it grew from there. In Minnesota, I’d worked with, but never for, the Salvation Army on a lot of projects with Toys For Tots and other charities, and had great respect for all that they do. So, here in Florida, I got to meet the leadership of the local Corps (Salvation Army) as Santa. When Ian hit, I contacted my friend Maria Ramos and left messages that I wanted to help.
Serious windshield time on the way to Everglades City. Pablo at the wheel, we made good time but it was congested and still had some water on the road down Hwy 41.
My driver/partner Alex and Patrice, our team leader down in Everglades City. We worked well together and she’s a superior leader.
Help is always in short supply after a disaster. People are pretty good about chucking some money in a kettle, or clicking the button and donating on the website but often forget that the way the meals get out, the elderly get a knock on the window to check on them, and the toys get to the children who are flooded out is via teams consisting of a Salvation Army driver and a handful of volunteers. We team up and hit the road.
This is Sandra’s team. Nicest group of young ladies you can imagine. We hit local neighborhoods distributing food and water – along with some prayer and hope.
Super cab pickups fit in a lot of help. Here we are on the way to Everglades City!
Over the first three days I variously cooked hamburgers, opened plastic bags so other volunteers could put in condiments, moved pallets of food and water, loaded trucks, unloaded trucks, stirred ground beef so it had spices mixed in for spaghetti sauce, organized pickup truck beds with cargo, explained to other volunteers what we were doing, drove to the south of Florida with a mobile canteen three times to hand out toys, MREs, hot meals, boxed lunches and water. I also spent a lot of time out in front of the truck walking up driveways where the doors were open and the people laboring inside to clean up, or just cope with their damage, and offered help in the form of a hot meal, water, a box lunch, or prayer.
Pablo and Todd in the mobile kitchen. They rocked the house and worked super hard.
Everyone has a role on these teams. My friend got the nickname “Condiment Queen” the first day, but on her second trip with us she became “Scoopy” I was simply Santa.
That’s how I met Dave. He was all alone on his driveway, the ruins of his life shielding him from the street, utterly in shock. He had that 1000 yard stare that victims of PTSI/D have. I asked him if he was hungry. He whispered he was fine and asked me to take care of others who needed it more. It was clear that Dave was in need, so I gently told him that he looked like he needed some help and we’d be honored to serve him. I talked to him for a minute, found out he had a wife and child in the house (Dave was approx 80) and I scooted back to the truck which we’d turned into a mobile canteen. Two volunteers dished up and prepared hot meals for our new friends from their place on the tailgate of our “tactical canteen” while I ran meals and ran ahead to scout out the needy.
But when I delivered Dave’s meals, he had tears in his eyes. I stopped and prayed with him. I’m not a holy-roller, but prayer makes a huge difference to people who are shattered. As a matter of fact, I spent a great deal of time on Monday holding the elderly in my arms while they shed tears and prayed over them. The meals were good. I got in my 1/2 marathon training in steps for the race at the end of the month (I guestimate I did 12-15 miles). But most of all, I comforted the afflicted and tried to brighten their days. It’s what He would want.
Super cab pickups fit in a lot of help. Here we are on the way to Everglades City!
This is Sandra’s team. Nicest group of young ladies you can imagine. We hit local neighborhoods distributing food and water – along with some prayer and hope.
I am thankful to the Salvation Army for giving me the opportunity. I’m off from that for a few days to take care of my wife after surgery, but I’ll be back out there later this week.
Don’t hesitate to support the Salvation Army via this link:
They do good work. And it will go on for months in this area: we got clobbered. If you’re in SW Florida and want to help, hit that link and look for the volunteer information. We can use your hands and feet to serve others.
My favorite photo: our volunteers packed this sack lunch (by the thousands) and wrote messages on many of the bags. That message of hope meant a lot to me as I saw it sitting on the table where we were helping out an 85 year old woman who was all alone in a soaked house.
Possibly the saddest sign of the week. I really needed coffee this morning at the hospital.
Here is a gallery of all the photos I can share from the past few days. More to come!
Possibly the saddest sign of the week. I really needed coffee this morning at the hospital.
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Possibly the saddest sign of the week. I really needed coffee this morning at the hospital.
The past week I’ve been taking my laptop out on the lanai (fancy word for screened patio) and working on a writing project for NAVIGATING ADVERSITY. It’s one of those things where you dig in, set a writing goal for the day and just hammer keys until you get to the finish line. I’ve got a way to go, but I’ll meet the deadline. (Full revelation: I screwed around for months “thinking” and didn’t really see what I had to do until I got trapped in Saint Louis for an extra day after the ACFW conference. Amazing what being locked away for a day does for one’s focus.)
Anywho, the lanai is a wonderful place to work. I’ve got a gigantic ceiling fan right above me to keep the sweat at bay, I can watch the construction across the canal, and I can hang out with the dogs because they love it out here. Perhaps best of all, Kip is on the other side of the house working in her office and I can BLAST 80S MUSIC AT FULL VOLUME WITHOUT ANY COMPLAINTS. Mind you, “blast” is relative, I’m only at about 5 on the 1-10 scale, but it’s still fun to sit here and listen to the songs of my tribe in my youth.
Right now Kim Carnes is singing Bette Davis Eyes. I love the song. The video is perplexing, but who am I to judge. It worked for her.
Now, I’m done goofing off, Men With Hats are doing A Land Down Under and I just realized that’s a pretty strange video as well.
