"Life comes at ya' from all sides." Henry used to tell me. "Trick is to find the opportunity in all the mess." Henry had been a friend and mentor. I had bought his house when he was forced to move into an assisted living facility. There were a few things left behind in a box in the attic and I had tracked him down to return them. It turned out, Henry had served with my dad in Korea and the early years of Vietnam. They had never met, but there was a good chance my dad had dropped supplies for Henry and his men. We had bonded and become friends. I would go and listen to him tell the same stories every week until he finally lost that last battle and went to be with his Margie.
I thought about Henry today for a couple of reasons. First, he had passed a year ago, today, and second, well, life was coming at me from all sides in a big way and I was struggling to find the opportunity in all the mess.
And then my phone rang.
I guess I should explain. I had contractors coming to my house to revamp some plumbing and electric on Monday. I had to be gone for two weeks. My sister had bailed on letting me stay at her place because my mom wanted to come visit and, well, I'd kick me out for my mom, too. I had no idea where I was going to stay for two weeks and I had just left a meeting with my boss and HR, during which I had been laid off. Part of some big reorg. I wasn't overly worried because the job market for software engineers in Austin was hot and the company was going to keep paying me for the next three months, with benefits.
It was just the next two weeks.
Like I said, life was in my face, big time. And then my phone rang.
I had special ordered her from the factory in Milwaukee just before the first of the year because none of the Harley dealerships had the specific combination I wanted. She was a life-long dream and I wanted exactly what I wanted. My annual bonus had paid for her. It took them a little over three months to put her together and today, I got the call.
I checked the weather and it looked clear for the next week to ten days so, I booked a one-way flight to Chicago. I could take the train from there. I drove home and put my car in the garage and called an Uber.
The flight to Chicago was uneventful and the train ride to Milwaukee was nice. I spent the weekend in a Holiday Inn Express a few blocks from the factory and walked over the first thing in Monday morning to pick my girl up. The people at the Harley Davidson factory were awesome. Possibly something to do with the 30k I had paid them, but I think they were just good people. I got a tour and even got to meet the finish team that rolled my bike off the line. They all complimented me on my choices and when I saw her for the first time, I knew it had been worth the wait. She was gorgeous, just the right amount of chrome and leather and her custom pipes, well, she wasn't going to be ignored.
I bought a new full-face helmet with a built-in heads-up display and the rep showed me how to sync it to my phone. Of course, I had to get a 'real' Harley jacket. I filled out the paper work and she was mine.
I went back to the hotel and checked out. I still had time to grab a bite at the continental breakfast. Bacon and eggs, a Danish and a glass or orange juice and I was good to go.
I checked the weather one more time, just to be sure. A huge storm, one of those polar vortex things that had been hanging out over Nebraska for the past week, the one the weather guys had been sure was not going anywhere, had decided to make a break for it.
The most easterly route that was reasonable went through Memphis. I was nine hours away, and they were predicting the storm would be there in seven. I strapped on my helmet, started her up and went for it figuring if I could just get far enough south, the storm would slide by behind me. I put the weather map up in my heads-up so I could track the storm and prayed. It looked like this sucker wanted to be in New Orleans for Spring Break. I was fucked.
Six hours down the road, the wind started pushing me around. I could look to the west and see the beast bearing down on me. When a gust almost put me in front of a north-bound truck, I took the next exit and found the closest motel. It wasn't anything more that a spot on the side of the road. It did have a gas station and a small diner attached to the lobby, so if I got stuck, I would at least be able to eat. I parked my bike under the awning in front of the gas station, grabbed my bag and stepped into the lobby of the motel.
I was third in line for a room, waiting my turn as the lady behind the counter took care of the other refugees from the coming storm. We all watched and waited nervously for the storm to hit. In this part of the country, you never knew what something like this could bring with it; hail, high winds or possibly a tornado. It was a crap shoot.
I got the last room and had just taken my key, when a red GMC Sierra hauling a box trailer pulled under the gas station awning to hide from the storm. The driver made a mad dash to the lobby just ahead of a torrent of rain that quickly turned to hail and then sleet and then snow.
"I'm sorry mister. I just rented my last room." The desk clerk was visibly upset that she couldn't help the guy. "Next place is about thirty miles. I can call them for you if you like."
He turned back to the door. "Hey, wait. You don't know me, and I don't know you, but I'm by myself and I don't mind sharing. Hell, I've done worse and I don't think anybody should be out driving around in that shit." I smiled at him and extended my hand. "Mike, Mike Wilson."
"You sure about this" he asked.
I pointed out the window at the storm and shrugged my shoulders. "Your call. I'm good either way."
"Jim Granger." He took my hand. "Thanks. I promise I don't snore." He laughed.
I turned to the clerk and she already had a second key ready. "That's mighty nice of you mister Wilson. I added a complementary breakfast for the both of you onto your room."
"Thanks, but it's just the right thing to do," I handed Jim the key. "107, I'll see you there." I picked up my bag and headed to the room.
Jim was about five minutes behind me. He had to park his truck and grab his stuff. I had pulled the curtain all the way open and spun a chair around. I had my feet propped up and was watching the world turn white. We didn't get weather like this in Austin. While I loved watching it snow, I just didn't want to live in it. I had no idea how I was going to get home. At least I had two weeks to figure it out.
Jim burst through the door bringing an icy cold gust of Artic air with him. "Shit, I hate this stuff. This is exactly why I left Kansas City for Austin. I can't stand this kind of weather." He dropped his bags on the bed and pulled a chair up next to mine.
"It sure is pretty though," I added.
"At least I'm not the poor sap on the bike. I'd hate to be him right now." He pointed across the parking lot at my new Harley parked at the gas station.
"Yeah, me too. Unfortunately, I don't have a choice." I told him I was headed to Austin, too, and about picking up the bike and misjudging the weather.
"Well, maybe I can repay a favor with a favor. I've got room in my trailer for another bike and it sounds like we're headed the same way. What do you think? I mean, it's your call, I'm good either way."
