June 16, 2006

• I'm in a rare mood right now, and I should take advantage of it.  Nothing in my external life has changed.  But there's something liberating about being forgiven; it gives one a new lease on life.  Sometimes forgiveness is explicit, sometimes implicit.  Whichever it is, forgiveness is cleansing, whether you're the forgiver or the forgivee.  Thank you, Madame V.  I hope you'll recognize yourself in my words here.

  Anyway, I figure I won't post anything political today.  No gloom and doom, much as I may be convinced to the contrary.  There'll be plenty of time for that in the weeks and months and years to come.  Right now I just want to  echo Bobby McFerrin in saying, "Don't worry.  Be happy!"  And the Bible in paraphrasing, "God has everything under control."

  I hope you all have a wonderful weekend.  My own weekend will be uneventful, as all my weekends are.  I'll be spending a portion of it trying to figure out what's wrong with Vlad's car.

  Vlad's car is a metaphor for my entire life, in more ways than one.  But first let me tell you who Vlad is.

  Vlad is my Ukrainian friend who is now an American citizen.  About 15 years ago he came to this country as a political refugee, requesting asylum, which he was granted after spending 7 months in an I.N.S. detention camp in Florida.  Since then he has learned English and garnered a Bachelor's degree and two Master's degrees, albeit at great expense.   He is currently studying for the CPA exam, after which he hopes (finally) to land a decent job.  He has experienced many obstacles along the way, but he is a survivor.  And he is my friend.  I love him like a brother.

  Several weeks ago Vlad learned that his only sister back in Ukraine was dying of pancreatic cancer.  So he purchased a plane ticket (expensive!) and prepared to see his sister (and his elderly mother) for what is probably the last time.  I pulled a few strings to get him some powerful medications to take to his sister, medications which she can't get in Ukraine.  I managed to get them for him cheaply.  And a little over a week ago I drove Vlad to the airport up in Chicago, where I promised to return to pick him up in two weeks.  Yes, I am a very good friend. 

  The "tradeoff" for all this, if one can think in such terms, is that I would have Vlad's car and cell phone to use for the two weeks he was gone.  I don't own a cell phone.  Vlad's car is 8 years newer than my truck, and has an automatic transmission, honest-to-God power steering and air conditioning, a great radio, even power windows and electric door locks.  I have never in life owned a vehicle with any of these things (except one with an automatic transmission), and wouldn't want most of them because they cost too much to fix when they break down.  (If I can't roll my own windows down with my arms, I need to pack it in.  But I digress.)  The automatic transmission and the power steering are kinda nice, though, and I was looking forward to driving Vlad's car while he was gone.  Maybe even going somewhere on a bit of a mini-adventure.

  So here's where the metaphor for my life comes in.  The very day after I got back home, I got in Vlad's car to drive to the community radio station where I do a world music show every week - the high point of my week.  Turned the key in the ignition.  Nothing.  Battery stone dead.  Not even the electric door locks worked.  Fortunately my rusty but trusty old truck was willing to convey me to my destination.  Now, instead of enjoying a mini-perk for two weeks, I'm faced with the task of trying to figure out what's wrong with Vlad's car and get it fixed if possible, before going up to Chicago next Tuesday to pick him up at the airport again.

  This is the second time in recent years that this exact thing has happened to me.  Several years ago I took a different friend up to the airport in Chicago at Christmastime, so that he could fly home to see his family for the holidays.  Again, I was to have the use of his car - an all-wheel-drive Eagle Talon, I think it was - while he was gone.  And true to form, it broke down on Christmas Eve.  Instead of going to Chicago to celebrate the holidays, I spent the entire holiday season that year trying to get his car fixed, which I managed to do just in time to go and pick him up at the airport again.

  If it seems like I'm complaining, my complaint is good-natured enough.  It's a privilege to have a friend like Vlad, and to BE a friend.  There is great joy in being a friend, even when it entails a certain amount of sacrifice.  Perhaps ESPECIALLY when it entails sacrifice.  Beyond the gift of our unconditional love, what else of value do we really have to contribute to the world?  Sadly, I know people who have never learned that fundamental principle.

  So let me thank you all for reading and commenting - for the gift of your friendship, virtual though it may be.  And may each and every one of you have a lovely weekend....despite whatever George Bush may do to further devastate planet Earth. 

  Oh...and if you're the praying sort, please pray for my friend Vlad as he faces and deals with the loss of all the family he has left in the world....except me.

  EDIT:  Now I'm back indoors after two hours of copious sweat, no actual blood, but (almost) tears.  It seems that the battery on a 1991 Chevy Lumina is UNDERNEATH and SURROUNDED BY the oddly-shaped plastic windshield washer fluid reservoir.  So one must remove a frame-like cross-member, the plastic fuse box, and said reservoir, in that order, before one can even SEE the battery.  Can you say "intelligent design"?  I knew you could.    In the process of removing the reservoir I simply snapped off all sorts of little black plastic fastener thingies, so I hope that gravity alone, and its odd shape, will hold it in place when I reassemble everything.  Meanwhile I suspect that the battery needs to be replaced, which should be a relatively simple matter NOW.  We shall see tomorrow.  Stay tuned.

  • 2:55 pm
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