House Arrest Continues

September 1995, me and Horace go for a ride in my 1984 Honda

 My "House Arrest" continues. Yes, I still don't have my driving privileges.

On Monday my neighbor Bob drove me to my cardiologist's office for an ultra sound on both of my carotid arteries. 

The technician who performed the ultrasounds said they looked fine. I asked him "When can I drive again?" He said if it was up to him he would give me permission immediately but that decision was "way above his pay grade." So I have to wait until July 22nd, my next appointment with my cardiologist to get that permission. They will also have the results of the heart monitor that I wore for ten days and sent in last week.

Let me tell you, this loss of driving privileges is a bear. The loss of freedom to come and go as I want is  a bitch. For years I didn't drive. Even though I got my driving license when I was sixteen years old I really didn't drive until I was forty years old. Prior to that time other people drove me around, mainly Bill. Back in the day when I was young, I couldn't buy a car without my parent's permission until I was twenty-one years old. My father would never give me permission. Oh he was a piece of work for sure. Didn't inspire much confidence in me for sure but that another whole story for another time.

When I did turn twenty-one I got a car and totaled it within an hour. Thus I didn't drive for twenty some years. I didn't need to drive when I was in the Army. Someone always had a car. 

When I got out of the Army, I got a job first in Pittsburgh. I took the trolley to work. Then when I returned home to Downingtown, Pennsylvania I got an office job (accounts payable) at a scrap yard. I walked to work. Yes, in all kinds of weather and through the black section ("Hey! You got a cigarette?") of Coatesville. I did that for two and a half years until I met Bill and got a job in center city Philadelphia where I didn't need a car. I walked the few blocks to work. 

Then came the time when we moved out of center city Philly to our "country estate" outside Downingtown. Came time for me to get a car. And I've been driving ever since. That is until I conked out in the Rehoboth Beach parking lot on the morning of June 16th. And since June 16th I haven't been driving. I hope this saga comes to an end on July 22nd. Because this is a bitch not being able to drive.

Bill Drives

Bill is down at Lowe's this morning as I type this blog posting.

This is Bill's first solo drive since he regained his driver's license last week. 

He was hesitant to drive, having not driven since he lost his license last June. 

I offered to drive him down to Lowe's. Down the notorious dangerous Route One, aka Coastal Highway. We're in the height of the summer season down here in Rehoboth Beach Land and the traffic is heavy.  Especially heavy on the weekend, sometimes at a standstill when the vehicles block intersections.

Good old Route One traffic headed to the shore

Of course I'm nervous that Bill is out on his own this morning. But he does like to roam around Lowe's without the hinderance of me tagging behind him.  I'm more of a garden center kind of guy.  That's when Bill tags behind me.

My regular blog followers may have notice that I haven't posted since last Tuesday. Time just gets away from me folks. 

Last week was a good week, except of course for the heavy traffic. It's getting more and more difficult just to get out of our development here.  And it will only get worse as the years go by.

I've been giving some serious thought to eventually moving away from here and this summertime mess.  Of course I would have to sell or get rid of just about everything I have in our home. After fifty-three years together we (or more accurately me) have accumulated much during those years of happiness and bliss. I guess I would get rid of everything except our artwork.  

An artistic collage of yours truly when I was very young by my very talented cousin Danny Hart

The furniture wouldn't go with me. 

But here I am veering onto another subject which is more suited to a separate blog posting. Right now I'm concerned about Bill. I'll be relieved when he returns home from his first solo driving since last June. 

This Drives Me Crazy

Get that checkbook out honey and hold up the line - why don't you put your bags in your shopping cart?

Folks, I really try to keep my blog postings positive and happy but sometimes I just have to vent.  I just returned from my local supermarket. Normally I don't like to go at this time of the evening because the store is crowded with folks getting off from work, or moms who pick their kids up from school.  I usually go early in the morning before these folks get up.  I like quiet.  I can't stand screaming kids running up and down the aisles.  What I also can't stand are those women (and it is ALWAYS women, sorry ladies) who pull out their checkbooks to pay for their groceries. 

So here I am late today, getting ready to prepare my dinner.  I wanted to make some buttermilk biscuits and I have no buttermilk. All the food I have in this house (and it is TOO MUCH) and yet I'm missing an INGREDIENT.  This also drives me nuts but that's a subject of another blog post.

I take my run to the store.  Of course Bill has to go with me.  Where would I be without my backseat driver?  Which, resulted in another row between us because I didn't take his advice and pull in front of a car making a right hand turn to make my left hand turn but THAT is also a subject of another blog posting.  I REALLY don't want to go there in this posting either.  We had a major shouting match over that one.  Bill doesn't seem to realize that there is only ONE driver of the car.  I don't know how many times I've told him we BOTH can't drive the car at the same time.  But I said I wasn't going to go THERE at this time so I won't.  I vented a little bit anyway.

So here I am, at the supermarket, dodging kids, humming annoying tunes and  doing pirouettes in the aisles, absent minded adults who leave their grocery carts in the middle of the aisles and the always single woman (or gay man as it may be and has been all to often for me here in Gayberry U.S.A. - my fate in life being the desirable man that I am) who is trying to get my attention for a Super Market Meeting (just like they read about how to meet THAT MAN in the supermarket freezer section).  

ALL.I.WANT.IS.TO.GET.MY.BUTTERMILK.AND.GET.OUT.OF.THE.STORE.

I get my buttermilk.  Wind my way through the late afternoon shoppers WITH THE NEVER ENDING TALKATIVE KIDS (don't those kids ever shut up? That Little Kid Voice irritates me to no end, I hear enough of it in TV commercials which, for some reason the people who make commercials think that Munchkin Little Voice is all so cute - it isn't) to the shortest checkout line.  I find it.  There is an Old Lady in front of me.  Uh huh.  Well, I'll take my chances.

WRONG DECISION RON.  I see she has a pen in her hand.  You know what that means folks don't you?  SHE'S.GOING.TO.WRITE.A.CHECK.  Oh.My.God.  What is it with these women and writing checks at the supermarket checkout?  Didn't they ever hear of a credit or debit card?  And ladies (all my lady friends, no offense), why is it ALWAYS women with the checks?  I don't get it.

So I watch Grandmom.  She mumbling something to the checker as he's checking out her items.  Of course she doesn't have her checkbook ready, they never do.  They always wait until every item is checked out then they go digging into their carry on bag for their purse.  God forbid she would have her checkbook ready, but she did have her pen ready.  I'll give her credit for that.  

The checker finishes ringing her items up. Grandmom says "Oh!" (she finally stopped babbling) and pulls out her checkbook.  It's stuffed with coupons.  OH.MY.GOD.  Now she's trying to match up the coupons with the items she's purchased. 

The lane next to me opens and the checker says to the lady behind me "I'm open!"  Well, I missed that one.  

I patiently wait while Grandmom is dishing through her coupons.  We're not getting anywhere.  The checker in the next lane has already checked out the lady behind me.  I gather up my ONE ITEM and move to her lane.  She checks me out and as I leave the store I see Grandmom still sorting through her coupons.  OH.MY.GOD.

Well, to be fair, maybe this is the only time she gets out of her musty lair.  Whatever.  

Now I'm very agitated. I have no patience folks with this scenario.  I've seen it too many times.  

Then I get in the car, with Bill waiting for me.  Now I'm traffic with the folks who pay my monthly Social Security checks.  Lots of traffic on the road.  I take the back road.  As I get to the road near our home I have to make a left hand turn.  There is a car in the opposite direction indicating they want to make a left hand turn in front of me.  I'm not comfortable turning in this situation so I wait.  Bill's screaming at me "Turn! Turn!" I don't turn in front but go behind her.  I don't know what the rule is in this situation but I just am not comfortable making a left hand turn in front of someone coming in the opposite direction making also making a left hand turn in front of me.  Someone tell me the rule.

So Bill goes berserk.  He's not the best teacher.  He screams and yells. I think he was in the service too long (three years Army and four years Air Force). 

So I get home.  He's furious at me.  I'm highly agitated because I got behind one of THOSE WOMEN WHO PULL THE CHECK BOOK OUT TO PAY FOR THEIR GROCERIES.  

And all for buttermilk to make some buttermilk biscuits.  I think I'll make those biscuits now, maybe it'll calm me down.  

Every day is an adventure folks.  Every day.  

My buttermilk biscuits - the best!