Groceries

The other day, as I headed off to the corner store, I found myself reflecting on the brave pioneers of our nation. People who set out for the vast unknown with little more than hope and a dream, every worldly possession on their backs or piled in a Conestoga wagon. My fantasy barely crossed the Mississippi (I wasn't thinking about really early pioneers, just kind of early pioneers) when I remembered one provision, essential to a modern explorer, that I had left at home. There was no going forward. The turmoil was exhausting, only three more blocks and I'd be at my destination but what if disaster should strike? I was alone and defenseless. Common sense drove me back, back to my beginnings, back home, back to my cell.

My cell offers security, keeps me safe from all doom and disaster. My cell vanquishes any fear, real or imagined. It isn't complicated, not fancy by modern design. It's just a simple Nokia. No qwerty keyboard, no 16GB memory. 4G? No real man needs a media phone to survive in the modern wild. I live in Texas, I know what a real man needs, you need a 300 plus horse four wheel drive (preferably a dually), you need a concealed weapons permit (one for a semi-auto, not one of those piece of crap revolver permits), you need satellite radio (the 25 local stations here and a six disc CD changer might not cut it), you need 15 credit cards, but a high dollar phone is ridiculous.

I headed back out invincible. Sure enough when I got to the market I stood face to face with a challenge that would have been impossible for an early explorer to overcome but one I just chuckled at. I couldn't remember if she wanted eggs or milk, a mistake here could result in untold controversy. I whipped out my polished black peacemaker and hit green button, down arrow twice and green button again. There was no response. I started to tremble a little as I timidly looked at the screen. Lightning blinded me while thunder clawed at my ears as I read: "NO SERVICE" Children were weeping, young girls cowered in the corners biting their nails. I am a man, I stood tall, walked outside and tried again.

She answered on the third ring, my knees buckled a little at the sheer relief. A smile shoved its way to my manly pursed lips as I marveled at how wonderful life is in these modern times.

"Hi honey, was I supposed to get milk or eggs?"

"I nee you t get so mu and a pa of bu ."

"I'm sorry, you're breaking up, try again."

"I nee you t get so mu and a pa of bu ."

"Still nothing, I'm moving over. Can you hear me now?"

She was gone, no problem. My Nokia night in shining armor had saved the day. I loaded up the milk and butter and fired those magnificent ponies of mine back to life. I tried to dial her once again, just to let her know her man was returning victorious, but a low battery and no 12 volt charger conspired to leave me alone and abandoned once more.

I made it home, put the sack on the counter and leaned my butt against the wall. I had my right foot cocked back with my toe on the floor and heal against the plaster. My arms were folded across my chest, my chin was low, if I had a hat I would have tipped it. "There you go Missy." Carol feigned nonchalance, no doubt she was overwhelmed by my extraordinary manliness, my ability to go out in the wild and return with provisions at her whim, but she did a real good job of hiding it. She just gave me a quick smile as she hollered at our grandchildren, "Hey guys, Grandpa is back with the mustard and buns, come and get a hot dog."

I told her I'd be right back, I needed to go look into one of those 4G phones.

Driving tip: Us old timer truck drivers were what you call professionals. If we needed to turn left at an intersection we would get in the far left lane and a few car lengths before the turn, pull the tractor out into the right lane. This maneuver keeps the back of your trailer in the left lane blocking traffic while your tractor, in the right lane, is able to swing wide enough to get the trailer around the corner without leaving tire tracks on the hood of some poor car that is stopped on the adjacent street waiting for the light. When you approach a red light and see a semi getting ready to turn your way, if his whole rig is in the left lane he or she is a new timer. Stay back about forty feet so that idiot can get his professional ass around the corner without ruining your paint.