Unlucky Garage

I promised, in an earlier post, to relate to you the easy way of driving a car through the back of a garage. I had forgotten this pledge until my lovely mother  reminded me of it and how angry the incident had made her. So, as promised, the easy way to drive through a garage  wall.

As I may have mentioned, when I eventually got my driver's license my Mom was kind enough to supply me with a Chevrolet Chevette to drive. For those too young to remember, a Chevette was a hatchback vehicle, mine was a four door stick shift. It had seen better days but still ran just fine and was more car than a lot of kids had.

The Chevette gave me mobility and also helped out my Mom. My Dad had passed away shortly before I got my license. As a matter of fact, my uncle took me to take my license test the day of my Dad's funeral. I guess they thought it would take my mind off Dad's death. It didn't but was a nice gesture. I have four siblings and they needed ferrying about. Having a second driver in the family was helpful.

A license and car gave me kind of a big head. I had the power and wasn't afraid to use it. In my defense, having four arguing kids wrestling in the back seat was disconcerting in a car that weighed hardly more than those four children. A firm hand was necessary. I also understood, then, why my Dad used to get so hot when we argued behind him.

When one of these arguments was going on, we were on our way home from town and the car was rocking back and forth on the road from all the silliness going on in the back. I had already warned the yahoos  several times and the wrestling kept up. Finally, much like my Dad, I lost my temper and pulled over about a mile from home. I ordered everyone out. They were stunned into submission. Everyone climbed out and I took off. They made it home about twenty minutes later and never failed to calm down when asked nicely afterwords.

My sister, Barb, was closest to me in age. Only eighteen months younger, she was determined that I not have things my own way very often. As the oldest girl, she was a strong supporter of rank based on seniority. One day coming home from somewhere with Barb in the passenger seat, I was pulling into our "garage."

The garage was an open faced shed structure built to the side of another shed on the property. It was essentially a three sided pole barn. The barn columns were telephone poles and horizontally installed two by fours provided a means to attach corrugated steel for siding. It was a nice way to keep the rain and snow off the car parked inside.

As I pulled up to the garage, I noticed a bicycle laying on the concrete slab inside. In the interest of convenience, mine, I told Barb to go move the bicycle. She promptly told me where to stick it. We argued for a minute and then, disgusted but unwilling to leave the car and lose face, I opened my door and leaned out. I leaned out as far as I could but couldn't reach so I stuck one foot our the door, intending, I suppose, to kick the bicycle out of the way. Slowly, I released the clutch and the car rolled forward. I kicked the bike and depressed the clutch.

The thing about a clutch is that it removes the motive power of the engine from the wheels. It is not however, a brake. The car kept rolling toward the back of the shed. If nothing else had happened, I probably would have bumped the back wall and that would be the end of it. Nothing else did not happen.

 As the back wall eased toward us, I had the bright idea to use the brake. To do this, I had to release the clutch. Remember the leg hanging outside? If you have never driven a stick shift, it is important to know that two legs are required to make the system work.

The other thing about a clutch is that when released, the engine re-engages with the tires and the car moves forward. Brakes don't work well when fighting against an engine. It didn't really matter whether the brakes worked or not though. I had missed the brake pedal in my panic and stomped on the gas pedal.

The end result was that the car fairly leaped at the back wall and through it before I got my leg back in the car and applied both brake and clutch appropriately. The front of the car and the tires promptly dropped off the back of the concrete slab and stopped.

That is the easy way to drive through a garage wall.

Luckily, the tires did grab the edge of the slab and the car moved back onto the slab. The two by four holding the siding wasn't destroyed, only pulled loose. The car had a minor scratch on the fender. The siding was kinked but not totally ruined. I patched it all up in less than an hour.

Mom was pretty hot, as I mentioned already but calmed down when she realized little permanent damage was done. There were some new ground rules concerning the driver and passenger responsibilities after that too.

 Another positive note is that I got another little story out of the experience. Lucky me. Unlucky garage.

Don't pay more than the worth of a word.

     Literature can move the heart and inflame the mind. Sentences have driven men to reach for a new life or destroy a government. Writers the world over have searched for the phrase to perfectly express a thought. Each word in the perfect sentence is a jewel linked to the next, a shining gem-like expression in the necklace of an idea. The perfect sentence is beyond value.
     Isn't it amazing that in the search for the perfect sentence it is possible to pay more than the worth of the sentiment, and by doing so, devalue it? As authors cast about for "the" way to express themselves, they often muddy the water with their own brilliance. To use a saying, or colloquialism to make the point, "Why use a five dollar word when a fifty cent word will do?"
     Yvonne Perry, in an article using the same saying suggests that a speech tailored to the audience will be enjoyed more completely than one using expressions containing "fifty dollar words". Could it be that while aiming for the highest moral peak, the best way to get there is with words that touch the greatest number of moral men? Take Mahatma Ghandi's expression for example: "Be the change you wish to see in the world". It would be a challenge to find some part of that anyone does not understand. It is, however, a world changing sentiment, thought, idea, meme, concept, and belief.
     Their are at least 600,000 words in the English language according to the Oxford English Dictionary. According to Michael Quinion, of World Wide Words, the average college graduate has a vocabulary of between 20,000-25,000 words. Although this is a highly variable and problematic statement, according to Mr. Quinion, if he is even close, there are many thousands of words left out.
     Reading lately, the ideas of fellow wordsmiths put to paper or blog, wading comes to mind. The need for mental boots to wade through lovely, fifty dollar, words in the hopes of finding a fifty dollar idea is sometimes exhausting. Most ideas are expressed best that are expressed simplest. That's not mine but it's true. There is always the phrase that cannot tell the story completely without the.... one.... perfect... word, possibly a fifty or hundred dollar one.
     Save your money for that time, that phrase, that world changing, mind blowing idea. The rest of the time, do the world, and yourself, a favor. Remember, a gem I don't recognize is only a rock. The perfect sentence is accessible to all the men you wish to reach.