Ever wanted something, REALLY wanted something…and when you got it…it broke?
I’ve wanted an Escalade for a while. About three years ago, I gave my (well-used) Suburban to a friend who lost everything in a flood. Since then, I’ve been driving our Toyota Sienna minivan. And while the Sienna is a decent vehicle, it’s just not me. It doesn’t feel like me. I don’t feel like me when I’m driving it. I am a massive, powerful, impressive persona. “Light Blue Minivan” just doesn’t resonate with who I am.
A couple of weeks ago, a friend called and said, “Hey, I’m getting rid of my Escalade. You want it?” Everything worked out easily, and I bought it. And it feels soooooooooo good to be in a vehicle that feels like me. In some ways, it feels like a dream come true.
And then it happened.
Driving home the other night, the battery light came on. I pushed the doohickey button until the display showed the battery volts. I watched, disheartened, as it dropped from 12…to 11…to 10…to 9…to 8. At 10, different systems started shutting down. First it was the ABS. Then it was the automatic wipers. It felt like watching a robot die from the inside out.
Realizing that the trend would lead to the vehicle unable to maneuver under its own weight, somewhere around 9 I started to pull off the side of the road. For what it’s worth, an Escalade can survive on 9 volts. Eight, on the other hand, won’t cut it. Unfortunately for me – and for a lot of other people behind me – I made it half way around a corner before it died…with its butt hanging out into oncoming traffic.
My dream…dead on the side of the road…ass hanging out in the wind.
And then along came Joe.
Joe jogged up to my window and said, “Hey, you got car trouble? Battery dead?”
“I think it’s the alternator,” I replied. “Yes, the battery is dead…and even if it would start, it won’t run for long.”
“Put it in neutral,” he said, “and I push you round the corner.”
And so Joe – all 120 pounds of him – pushed my multi-ton vehicle (with me in it) around the corner, protecting it and me from oncoming traffic. And then he went to work.
“Poppa the hood. I check the battery,” he said.
He went to his car and returned with a battery pack jumper cable set. Hooking it up, we got the Escalade running. And, as soon as he disconnected it, the Escalade died. Undaunted, he went and got his toolbox and tightened all the battery cable connections…to no avail.
“If you wanna get a alternator, I put it on for you tomorrow after work,” he said. “I’m a loader at the dairy, but I work on cars, too.”
We chatted for a bit, and I wound up calling AAA and having it towed to a shop that the previous owner used. Before he went on his way, I got his number.
I’m meeting Joe later this week to pay him for his time. But my true intention is to get to know him and forge a friendship. Because I want people like Joe in my life. They are pure gold. And like the Kintsugi picture above (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kintsugi), they are the gold that mends broken dreams.
Care to share a story about a Joe in your life? Comments are open….
