Big Day

It seems like life is all about making small steps toward a goal. There are days and days of these small steps, where lots of decisions are made, each of which you hope moves you down a path in the right direction. If you insist on regular results with such a philosophy, you’re almost sure to be disappointed, and shoot for immediate gratification instead of slow steady progress.

First of all, today was a day I didn’t have to get ready and head north for another rehearsal/performance of the play. I’m delighted I did it again this year, but it does knock the pudding out of you after several weeks of it.

Next, I finally hauled our broken TV to the transfer station. I had taken it 150 miles each way to Escanaba to get it repaired, and yet it stayed broken. It has been such a reliable set that I hated to think of just junking it, but this morning I hauled in the cart, lifted it down from its perch, and wrestled it onto the back of the truck. After I paid the disposal fee, I backed it into the bay where the trash goes, and the guy there told me to just tip it off the truck onto the concrete floor. “It don’t matter if it breaks,” he said. I couldn’t make myself do it. I lowered it from the truck and kissed the ground with it, and got nary a scratch on it. It was a good TV over the years and I felt bad about mistreating it. Silly. Now there is a pretty big hole in our livingroom.

This afternoon I got a phone call from a fellow that works with me on the fire department. He wondered if I was home so he could look at the 1965 Scout 800 I had advertised for sale in the UP.NET classifieds. I said sure, and he came over. He wanted it for parts, and after about a half hour of poking around he said he’d take it. He wrote me a check and I gave him the title. In the next couple of days he’ll be back and we’ll tow it to his place. It will be nice to get that machine out of the yard.

Finally, on our walk back from our afternoon dock sit, a pickup truck stopped and the passenger rolled down his window. He started talking to me as though I knew him, but it took me a while to recognize him. He was a fellow I had gotten called to as a first responder. He was pretty seriously ill when I got there (I was the first one there) and we did our best to get him stabilized and onto the ambulance. I had gotten word that he did make it, but had no idea he was back home. He said some very nice things to me, including that he thought I had “saved his life.” I was one of many people that contributed time and effort to get him into the hands of the people that really work the magic, but I have to admit I felt pretty good about what I did that day. So often you get the patients on the ambulance and that is the last you hear of them. In this case a healthy man greeted me with warmth and gratitude.

I’d say it was a pretty big day!

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