I saw a comic strip the other day that showed a Thanksgiving Day family dining table scene from an earlier era, circa 1950 ….15-20 people gathered happily around a large table laden with various dishes and everyone smiling and talking. The next scene was a current day Thanksgiving Day scene. Dad, Mom, son and daughter were all seated on a sofa, each looking at their electronic devices…no conversation…..no dining table. No fellowship or fun. Hmmmmm…..What will the conversations be about at your table tomorrow?
Bill and I had an interesting drive to Birmingham today. I drove. We left about 12:30 pm and about 20 minutes up the road a light on the dashboard began flash…ing. I didn’t recognize the icon ( I am a word person, not an icon person!) so Bill had to lean over to see it and interpret. It was the tire inflation sensor light. With the colder weather we decided the air just needed to be checked. We got to the Rainbow Food Store in Greenhead and saw a rather beaten up air compressor/vacuum. After several minutes Bill was unable to get to all four tires before it quit and it had no gauge on it, so we left. In Bonifay, we attempted to stop to get them checked at a tire shop. But they were so busy we would have had to wait 30 minutes or longer, so off we went again. (The tires looked fine, by the way). When we got near Enterprise we found a convenience store with a newer model compressor, so we stopped and Bill inflated all the tires. The light went out. When we got north of Prattville the light came back on. We stopped for a break and checked the tires again. They looked fine and the pressures were good. The light went out briefly, then came back on as we continued on to Birmingham. Finally Bill said, “I don’t know why they put those sensors on cars. They don’t work. I don’t think there’s any point in getting it fixed. It would probably cost a fortune. Anyway, you can just walk around the car and see if the tires are adequately inflated. If you hear something go ‘blub…blub…blub…blub…blub…”, then you’ve got a flat. I got so tickled at his aggravation and the matter of fact way he said this that my side ached before I got the laughter under control.
A little further up the road, as we passed an exit near Clanton, I had finished a Coke and had to burp. I tried to be discreet and burbed with my hand over my mouth, but it was still rather powerful. Bill said, “What was that????” I said, “Excuse me, I burped.” He said, “No, you didn’t burp a marching band!” I looked at him like he’d lost his mind and said, “What??”. He said, “Don’t you hear that?” There was a Midas Muffler commercial on the radio with some indistinct music in the background. He turned up the radio and the commercial ended. Sure enough, it sounded like a marching band! It had been of such poor quality on the commercial that he couldn’t tell where it was coming from and he thought maybe he was hearing a band from a school football field near the interstate! Again, I got so tickled. “You didn’t burb a marching band!” No, indeed, I did not.
When we got to our daughter’s house about 6pm. I told our granddaughter about the “marching band” comment and she giggled, too. He still makes me smile.
Hope your Thanksgiving is joyful and filled with laughter tomorrow
When we got to our daughter’s house about 6pm. I told our granddaughter about the “marching band” comment and she giggled, too. He still makes me smile.
Hope your Thanksgiving is joyful and filled with laughter tomorrow