Sunday, August 3, 2014

TV Cables, Geeks, and Indiana Jones

I think I can officially say that I am settled in here.  We've been in our new not-quite-as-far-south-but-yet-just-as-southern home state for four years.  At times I can't believe we have been here this long, and at other times, it feels as if I have never lived anywhere else.  It was summer time when we landed here from that far away planet named Atlanta, and I guess this time of year just brings back memories from that time.  I have one particular memory that I have never shared here.  Only a few close friends have ever heard this story.  It has taken four years for me to put enough distance between myself and the happening to be able to write about it.  Here it is, in all its glory...

We have moved more times than I can now count.  Years ago, I actually figure up just how many different places we had lived since we married and, at the 10 year mark we were up to about a dozen.  It has settled down since then.  In all the times we have moved (4 being across the country moves), we had never used a moving company.  This time J's new company was paying for the move.  I didn't even have to pack.  Wonderful, I said!  Fantastic, I thought!  What could be easier, I mused?!  I loved not having to worry about loading the trucks.  It was great that we didn't have to drive that huge load across three states.  What a relief it was that I didn't have to worry about finding help to unload everything.  Yep! All those things were wonderful, but I will never do that again!  Four years later and there are still things that I have yet to find!  We were here for close to two weeks before we found the coffee maker.  It was shoved in a box with old kitchen rugs, a broken VCR, and some garden equipment.  What the heck?!? 

Another missing item was the cord for the tv.  The boy's tv managed to keep it's cord, but the one for the big tv was missing.  I decided that searching through 5,000 boxes looking for a 7$ cord was not the way I wanted to spend my afternoon.  So I headed off to the local electronics store.  Of course, in my brilliant, motherly wisdom, I grabbed the cord from the boy's tv and took it with me.  I wanted to be sure I got the right one.  Shoving it in my massively overstuffed   30lb  ridiculously packed slightly filled purse, I rushed out the door. 

Our little town is not that big.  It's no Mayberry, but neither could it be described as a thriving metropolis.  It's a nice little suburban town and, like all nice little suburban towns, it has its very own Radio Shack staffed by techno-savy teenagers with barely a dozen facial hairs between them.  It was into this domain of teen boy nerdom that I dared to venture.  I readily admit that I know nothing about electronics or cords or how to hook anything to anything, but I felt pretty confident this time because I had remembered to bring the other cord. 

It was so hot that day, I will never forget it.  It was the kind of hot that takes your breath away when you step out of the air conditioned car.  The humidity immediately caused my glasses to fog up.  I'm sure I resembled a female Mr Magoo as I blindly stumbled my way into the store.  I opened the glass door and as I stepped in I was hit by the unmistakable fragrance of Ax body spray, Clearasil and teenage testosterone.  As the mother of five boys, it is a scent I am well acquainted with.  It was fairly busy, or at least busy enough that the three sales associates were all tied up.  I use the term sales associates despite the fact that I'm pretty sure I have had things in my fridge that were older than a couple of them, and I know for sure none were older than my cat, though hopefully more adept with electronics than she was.  So I waited.  I wandered around the playground of electronic dreams trying not to let my impatience show, until finally someone was free to help me out.

The youngin' that approached me looked like such a sweet little boy.  I'm sure he was diligent in this, his first job.  He wanted to be helpful and polite.  The only problem was, he was so nervous he could hardly speak.  Sweat soaked his brow and his tongue seemed to get trapped in his braces.  I'm not sure he had been this close to a female since he was weaned.  Mind you, I was a good three feet away! "How can I help you?" he finally manged to stutter.  My urber efficient mother-mode sprang into action, after all, I had been here a while!  I was in a hurry!  I couldn't afford to waste time!  I reached into my purse without looking and, in a flash, whipped out the cord I had brought with me.  As I did, I explained "I need another one of these".  And that's when it happened.

In my haste, I had failed to pay close attention when grabbing that cord.  I had not been watching when I reached into my purse.  I had not been aware that the cord had become wrapped around a large, maxi-pad.  As I whipped it (and there is really no other way to describe it) out of my purse like Indiana Jones using his bullwhip on the bad guys, the maxi-pad ricocheted out like it had been shot from a slingshot.  In slow motion I watched in horror as it cartwheeled into the air over my head (the package said it had wings, but good grief!  I had no idea they were serious!) and made contact with the back of the bald head of a very large gentleman standing near me.  When it hit the floor the sonic boom created by such an overwhelmingly female item loosed in adolescent boy world, shattered the front store windows and set off car alarms three miles away.  Okay, slight exaggeration there.......  It only seemed that way to my ears.  The gentleman, whose shiny dome had been assaulted by my feminine projectile, turned around and looked down at the floor, at me, at the young man attempting to help me, and with a simple shake of his head, went back to the wonders of blue tooth speakers.  

The poor, stuttering, nervous, sweaty, terror-stricken, young man who had made the mistake of approaching me and offering his assistance, looked as if he just may faint.  I have never actually seen anyone turn those colors before.  Before he could pass out, thereby messing up my schedule further, I stuck the cord in his face and said "get me one of these".  Then I nonchalantly reached down, picked up my errant missile and crammed it back into my shoulder bag.  Johnny Electronic turned and practically ran to retrieve the correct cord.  He didn't hand it to me, though.  Secretly, I think he was afraid to get close enough!  He laid it on the counter at the register and then kind of pushed it towards me, took my money, mumbled something about wanting his mother and left me standing there without so much as a receipt, have a nice day or please don't ever return to this store.  So I took my cord, bagged it myself and prepared to make my retreat.  I held my head up high and defiantly stared in the eyes every male who dared to meet my gaze.  Most, having learned already that there are times when it's smartest to just not mess with a woman, simply moved out of my way.  One even held the door open for me.  Come to think of it, I may have heard it lock behind me.........

"Oooooo! is there more to the story?  Is there a lesson to be learned here??" 

Why, yes, dear reader, there most certainly is!  You see, my mistake was not that I took the cord with me, it was not in my choice of stores to visit, it was not even in my decision to carry feminine necessities with me.  Nope, my mistake was in the fact that I was in a hurry and I didn't pay close attention to what I was doing.  I was so mission oriented that I missed out on a crucial detail.  How many times have we all be guilty of doing the same thing?  We all get in a hurry.  Most of us lead busy lives, but how different would my experience have been if I had just slowed down a little?  I certainly would have spared myself a great deal of embarrassment.  And that is the lesson to be learned here, my lovelies.  It is important for us to remember that our schedule is not the most important thing and it may not be God's schedule for us at all.  Of course, a case could also be made for the lesson of always zipping those things into that little, otherwise useless, pocket on the inside of most purses, but I think that's a different blog.  I had someone quote Psalm 23 at me recently, and I mean it was quoted AT me, not to me.  Have you ever had someone do that before?  It can be very annoying, I'm not gonna lie, (you know who you are!!) but, once again, different blog!  The thing is, the verse that says "he makes me lie down beside still waters" jumped out at me.  It doesn't say that he asks us to lie down, or he invites us to lie down, or even that he suggest that we lie down.  Nope! He MAKES me lie down.  It would seem the Lord is familiar with our tendency to be on the run, on the go, never slowing down.  King David certainly seemed to understand or he wouldn't have written it this way. 

How many times have you found yourself so wrapped up in life and what you feel you need to accomplish that you end up wearing yourself out without reaching your goals?  Down time is critically important.  That is how the Lord made us and, according to the Psalm, He's not above forcing us to chill out a little.  Don't make my mistake. Don't let it take something like the flight of the phoenix to get your attention. 

So I challenge you this week to slow down.  Take a breather.  Chill out.  Calm down.  Hang loose.  Cool your jets.  Take a chill pill.  You know, just generally take time to rest.  Your family will thank you, your body will thank you, and maybe the quivering, young worker at your local electronics store will thank you too. 

Until next time I'll be here, making memories, chilling, and getting caught up in flights of fancy.  Trust me, that's the only that will be flying any time soon!!! 

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

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