I am still exhausted this morning. Yesterday was the evening from hell. I haven’t been this frustrated and frankly, scared, in years.
It started with my volunteering to go to a conference in Carson City, NV, to listen to speakers from the AFL-CIO on the series of bills in the legislature that are directly attacking the rights of working people. For the first time in many years, the Republicans have majorities in both houses of the state legislature and the governorship, and they are rushing to get all their pet legislation passed while they can. They know that when the anti labor laws start affecting the people in Nevada, they will lose the next election badly, but they are determined to do their worst anyway.
They just passed a bill to do away with prevailing wages on school construction. That will drive wages down in the construction industry, making workers poorer.
They have bills lined up to abolish overtime and eliminate the eight hour day. They want to reduce or eliminate the minimum wage. They want to eliminate worker’s compensation. Strangest of all, they want to eliminate medical benefits covering policemen, firefighters, and other public workers as soon as they retire from active duty.
Economic depression is defined as too many products and not enough customers rich enough to buy those products. Of course, Republicans don’t like to hear the word depression any more, at least since Herbert Hoover and George W. Bush, so now they just call it austerity. It’s the same thing.
Why would a rational businessman try to make his customers poorer? Are they insane? Deluded? Or have they conveniently forgotten that their employees are also their customers?
Sorry, that is not the subject I meant to write about. The scary event had to do with my wife Carolyn. While I was attending the AFL-CIO conference, Carolyn took the car and drove north about 35 miles to Reno (actually Sparks) for a dental appointment to replace a crown that had fallen off. Her appointment was at 4:00 PM and my conference was to be over at 5:30 PM, so we figured there wouldn’t be much of a problem driving back to Carson City to pick me up and go home.
I got out of my meeting a little early, about 5:00 PM, so I sat down on a bench outside to wait. It was a little chilly, but I expected her there shortly. At 5:30 she wasn’t there, so I tried to call her. She did not answer, so either her cell phone was off, or buried inside her coat or purse so she couldn’t hear it. I froze out about 6:00 and went back into the Carson City Nugget Casino and Convention Center and called again. No luck again. I left a message each time so if she checked her phone she would know I was trying to call. At 6:30 I called again, with no response. I hate being helpless. This is where frustration starts, and a little fear begins. Just before 7:00 she calls me! I am overjoyed, and ask if she is back in town. She says she doesn’t know, and she is lost. She doesn’t know what town she is in. I ask her to look around and find a street name nearby. She came back with Keystone. My heart sank. This street is way west of Reno--not south--and I know how badly lost she is. She mentions that she is getting low on gas, and I made a huge blunder. I asked her to look on the dashboard and tell me what the range says. Our new car has a number telling how many miles are left. She said 67 miles. I should have told her to find the nearest gas station and fill it up, but I didn’t.
Instead, I calculated the she was less than forty miles north, and told her to come back south to Carson City. I also talked her through the process of selecting the address of the Carson City Nugget into the Garmin GPS. I had programmed it in earlier, before we left the house.
After several missteps, we got it in and she saw the purple road showing on the map, so I told her to just follow that purple road, and I’d see her in a little bit.
Well, an hour went by with no sign of her, and no word on the phone. It’s been three and a half hours since she left the dentist’s office, and that is about a 45 minute drive.
Finally, the phone rings. I ask if she is in Carson City yet. She says no. I ask if she has left Reno yet, and she doesn’t know--she thinks she missed Carson City somehow. I ask if she is following the purple road, and she says no, she forgot. Now I tell her to find a gas station immediately, because I know she is about to run out. She tells me she is on South Virginia Street, so I know she is on the right track, but without enough gas to get all the way to Carson City. So she says she is going back to find a station. I tell her I love her, and good luck.
In about a half an hour, my phone rings again. A strange voice asks if I’m Don Rogers, and I say yes. The voice on the phone says he is with the Nevada Highway Patrol, and not to worry, that they are getting a gallon of gas for my wife, and will point her in the right direction when they get her some gas in a few minutes. I am about to cry. I suggest to the officer that she is totally confused, has been driving for over three hours until she ran out of gas, and I am worried she will get lost again. A gallon of gas from her location is just enough to make it to Carson City if she doesn’t get lost again. He says not to worry, they will make sure she gets here safely. Carolyn calls me a few minutes later to reassure me she has a gallon of gas now, and will see me shortly. The officer asks to speak to me, and says he will have her follow him to Carson City and asks again for my exact location. I tell him the Nugget Casino, and he says good, that is what Carolyn told him, also. He asks if I’m in shape to drive when they get there and I tell him I’ve only been drinking coffee by the quart, and I’m alert as hell. He laughed and said they would be there in about 30 to forty minutes.
Right on the money at at 10:00 PM I see the Highway Patrol car pull into the parking lot with Carolyn following closely. When she finds a parking spot, I go over to the car, and the patrolman is already there to make sure I’m OK. He asks how I feel, and I tell him I’m about to cry with relief, and a little sick but alright. He tells me what I already knew--that the gallon of gas is probably almost gone, so fill up immediately. I thank him, shake his hand, and point out the Shell station just a block north where I will fill up before heading out to Winnemucca. He tries to reassure me that because of the new freeway construction between Reno and Carson City, an lot of people get lost out there, and there are no gas stations for about a twenty mile stretch.
This morning I realize I forgot to get his name or offer to pay for the gallon of gas. Sometimes I think I’m losing it, too!
So after filling up, we headed out through Dayton, Silver Springs, and Fernley, Nevada, on our way home. We stopped at the brand new Denny’s at the Flying J truck stop in Fernley and ate a very late dinner, and then we drove on to Winnemucca, arriving here after 2:00 this morning.
We both slept very soundly and late, and are still recovering from the ordeal. Carolyn agrees that she won’t be driving alone on unfamiliar roads again.
Life is what happens after you plan how you think it should be. A corollary to that is old age ain’t for sissies!
