Breaking down

“Watching the red river of antifreeze flowing out my rad, and just keep flowing, sobered me up to a cold, hard fact: the only thing that might be freezing tonight….is me.” Photo: Mike Murchison

by Mike Murchison

Winter can seem longer when there’s no heat. Worse when its dark.

You think life is picking on you, and you can drift into the Negative realm of your mental capacities.

Breaking down in what seems “The Middle of Nowhere” (don’t bother punching it in Google Maps) can seem inconvenient and maybe cruel.

“Why me? Why now?’”

Well.

Breaking down near home doesn’t really count in my books. You’ve got to be at least 150 miles from anything for it to count on your fortitude scale.

Things break, pop and the life blood of the heating system flows out like a tributary trying to find its way to the ocean.

If I were a gambling man, I bet the odds against the House that it wouldn’t happen in civilized daylight hours. No, it happens late at night, when wrench-pullers are home and have no interest in coming out to your little crisis.

So long johns, sleeping bags and whatever is going to keep you warm is the task at hand.

Hell. I’m one of these guy who whispers sweet things to the big wheels. Tell ’em how big and good looking they are. Does it matter?

Maybe its just a way to reassure myself in a world where “goin’ sideways” is the norm.

This time ’round, I didn’t whisper diddly to the big truck. I stared it down and clenched my jaw.

Watching that little tributary flowing out from under that radiator reminded me of the physical properties of liquids.

When you stop to water the flowers on a really cold night, even at 98.6 degrees it don’t take long for that little trickle to freeze.

But watching the red river of antifreeze flowing out my rad, and just keep flowing, sobered me up to a cold, hard fact: the only thing that might be freezing tonight….is me.

I gave up controlling things I couldn’t curse about a long time ago.

Nowadays, I grit my teeth and remind myself that God puts us through the fires to strengthen us. Build our character. Make us empathetic to the plight of others.

You see, there were two horses leaning up against the fence watching me. I suppose watching me took their minds off the fact that they, too, were standing out in the cold night.

I paid some attention to them. They paid some to me. That’s empathy in action.

Despite the inconvenience of a breakdown and some chilly night air, I hope I was able to teach those two hoof-pounding drinkers of the wind a thing or two.

Blessings,

MLM