DH walked up to me with a more-than-usual swagger the other day, and observed, "I see your calendar is free on Wednesday." When I agreed, he continued. "Would you like to go with me to the Southern Christmas Show?" I was delighted to be asked on a date, and looked forward to it.
The Southern Christmas Show is a huge event in nearby-large-city, held in the Merchandise Mart buildings. It lasts a couple of weeks and is open from, say, ten am to, say, eight pm. Plus or minus. It's retail plus decorating demonstrations plus food plus just getting in the mood for the holidays. You walk a million miles and that's just getting from your car to the door. Nine bucks a pop to enter the door and another $2.50 if at some point in the day you want a soda. Twenty minutes to use the ladies' room. Lots of folks from far away, even, have a tradition of visiting it each year. You'll see them explaining to vendors: They're my sisters. We've been meeting here for 10 years. Or, she was my college roommate. We've been doing this ever since college. Mother-daughter. Grandmother-mother-daughter. The variations are endless, and you see them all. Some folks dress alike. Some have matching Christmas shopping bags. Lots pull wheeled shopping bags. It has its own website; you'll have to google Southern Christmas Show to find it.
We have a long history of attending the Southern Christmas Show. We attended it before marrying, just the two of us, and bought each other Christmas stockings to fill. We attended it the next year, married, with neighbors from across the road. At one point in the evening, the fellows split off from the girls and we all purchased gifties for our spouses.
The next year found us in our new home. Just like this year, we set aside a date to attend. Alas, DH's dear white cat passed away that same day at the veteranarian's. We had sent her to be declawed. She did fine through the surgery but never woke from the anesthesia. DH insisted on taking me on to the SCS despite his grief. My oh my, we never saw so many pet portraits, pet gifts, cat statues and the like until that long, long day.
We laughed today as we recalled these and other trips to the SCS. The year my back was out. The time I got a migraine. The time we took LO. As we laughed, we little thought what the day held for us.
The day dawned sunny but very cold. No matter, we smiled. Both of us pulled out our warmest coats for the trek from car to event. They offer coat check at the door; we won't be burdened with our coats as we stroll around. We piled into the car with only 2 contraband bottles of water in my pocketbook, and a ziplock of Craisins and pecans. Events like this never have vegan food; one has to eat. Cranked the car, opened the garage, and wa-a-ah DH backed the car out like a race car driver. Almost immediately the clash of metal and stone rang in the air and -- my dear little car careened off the driveway and over the tiny stone wall that separates it from the asparagus patch at the back of the yard.
We looked at each other in horror. DH gunned the motor. The left tire spun deeper into the gravel drive. The right wheel spun in midair, suspended out from the stone wall.
I said nothing. DH said nothing. He got out. Evaluated the situation. "Dang." He kicked a tire.
"Stay here," he muttered. Pulling his own keys from his pocket, he pulled Edison into the drive, in front of my car. Tied a rope from his rear bumper to my front one. Advised me to climb into the driver's seat and crank. He did the same -- in his car. Driving his own car forward, he tried to pull mine back onto the drive. No luck.
Nothin'.
Got out, added more stones under tires. At this point, I was tiring of being a Good Sport. I rolled down the window and offered, "Do you have a really heavy board to use as a ramp?" I had seen such a plan work in a movie once, when motorists were stranded in the snow. "Yeah, I was going to do that anyway." He disappeared into the garage and came out with a lovely old 1x10, I mean old -- it was actually 1" x 10". (They aren't exact anymore. If you could find a 1x10 in real wood today, it'd be more like 9/16 x 9 and 5/8.) Propped it under the rear tire and returned to Edison. Slowly, slowly, he inched forward. I cranked the car and steered it the teeniest bit to the left.
Tada. She was back on the drive.
Encouraged, DH parked Edison. He raced to the rear of my car, picked up a large car part in his hand, and ran to toss it into the garage. Closed the garage door. (Do I need that on my car? I'm wondering...) He hopped into the driver's seat of my car. "Oh, Honey." I couldn't help myself. The legs of his jeans were spotted with dirt. Then I saw his face. He had snagged a sore finger on a rock or the wheel and it did not feel good. "Is your finger okay?" "I snagged it. It'll be fine."
But he was disappointed that his jeans disappointed me.
Sigh.
"Let me go change."
"No, it's not that bad."
"I don't want you embarrassed."
"You can hardly see it. Let's just go."
So we went.
He backed out of the drive a bit more sheepishly this time, and we proceeded through the neighborhood.
I was aware that we were not communicating -- each of us was saying what we thought the other wanted to hear -- but was clueless as to how to fix it.
We had gone about 2 and a half blocks when I announced, "The right rear tire is making a loud noise." "Yep," he agreed. Pulled over to investigate. "It's a flat," he called from the nether regions. So there on the nearby street, he changed the flat.
We louied the block and headed home to switch cars. DH ran upstairs to change jeans and wash hands. I grabbed a scarf to keep my neck warm, necessary now that I have a mannish haircut. We had a conversation about whether we should really go, and decided we really should. Our time was limited as we had to be back in time to pick up LO from school.
Finally. We sat in Edison, ready to go. Only an hour and 20 minutes later that we had intended. The car was warm and NPR was going strong. We smiled at each other and drove to NLC.
The drive was fine. As we neared the event, we saw lines of cars on the highway, waiting for their turn on the ramp to enter the parking. Smiling, DH remembered earlier trips to the event, bypassed them all, took the next exit -- without any wait -- turned back and got right into a parking lot. Jacketed attendants took our money -- yes, that costs, too -- and we got a great spot. DH opened my car door and helped me into my coat. Almost simultaneously, we said, "What's that hissing noise?"
The right front tire of Edison had a slice and it was visibly flattening before our very eyes.
We laughed until we cried.
"What are we going to do?" I asked.
"Let's go enjoy the show and I'll change it when we get back."
So we held hands and went inside. Enjoyed the show. Didn't buy a thing.
When we returned to the car, there was a note taped to the windshield: Right front tire FLAT.
Two flat tires in one day -- on two separate cars. Still, we felt badly for the young mother we saw in the pedestrian tunnel going into the event. "Sorry I can't talk right now," she said into her cell phone. Her face was worried as she brushed by, toddler in the stroller. "I'm at a Christmas show and I have lost my keys." DH looked at me. "Now that's a bad day."
Our total expenses:
Parking $6
2 tickets: $18
2 pretzels: $6
1 bag roasted almonds: $6
Water from home: free
Total cost without buying anything: $36.
Oh, and the cost of 2 new tires: $24
(we got road-hazard-insurance when we originally purchased them).
We enjoyed the show and I think we truly enjoyed not feeling like we needed to buy a thing. I can't wait to see what next year's trip holds in store for us.
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