by Pa Rock
Road Warrior
I am currently reading (for the second time in forty years) The Hollow Hills, the second book in Mary Stewart's four-book collection on the Arthurian legend as told through the voice of Merlin, the Court Enchanter. Merlin is a young adult in The Hollow Hills who has some idea of the life that lies ahead thanks to knowledge imparted to him by his "Gods." Sometimes Merlin's Gods are so prevalent as to almost be underfoot, and at other times they seem to have all but disappeared leaving him to fight his personal battles and confront life on his own.
The idea of personal Gods is one that rings true with me. I have days when everything runs so smoothly that I know my own Gods must be looking out for me, and other days when life is defined more by obstacles than it is by movement.
Yesterday I stepped into a couple of lines where it looked as though I was doomed to spend a lot of time standing and waiting - but in both of those instances people suddenly started leaving and going other places, and the workers handling the lines also kicked into gear and got things moving. My Gods, I thought, while silently channeling Merlin, were certainly proving to be with me.
But then things changed when I left the airport in Portland, heading down the road in my little steel-gray rental car - a Ford Fiesta. Traffic was unusually heavy on the normal one-hour drive to Salem, and both light rain and darkness settled in before I reached my destination. My Gods had obviously hopped in the wrong rental car and were now making life better for some other tourist.
That's what I thought - but I knew it for sure when I reached my destination, the La Quinta in Salem. The lobby looked empty as I pulled onto the lot and parked. But as I stepped into the lobby one other traveler managed to get between me and the check-in desk. All right, I though, I'm still second - and should be in my room within minutes.
The lady in front of me filled in her card, made small all with the clerk about her rental car ,and then was finishing up when the desk clerk asked an unfortunate question. Was the lady traveling with a pet?
"No," the lady answered. "I do not have a pet - but I do have a service dog." And that point she cut loose with a long and very well practiced diatribe on service animals. She had a captive audience and was going to take full advantage of it. After a few minutes of pontificating about how service animals and under-appreciated by many businesses and individuals, it finally looked as though the person was going to conclude, take a breath, and move on to her room, but then the desk clerk mentioned breakfast and told the lady that her dog, service or not, could not be in the food preparation area. And that was all it took to get her rolling again!
By that point a couple of other people had joined the backlog - and we were all glaring at the person who was keeping us from checking in. My Gods had gone on down the road and were staying somewhere else for the night.
When I finally got registered and went outside park and unload the car, the person in spot number one, the best parking spot for the entire hotel, pulled out just as I was starting my car - and I grabbed that primo spot. My Gods had obviously made it to Salem's La Quinta. They were late in getting there, but they had found me at last!
Today I will be with my Oregon grandchildren - and we will be having fun!
Road Warrior
I am currently reading (for the second time in forty years) The Hollow Hills, the second book in Mary Stewart's four-book collection on the Arthurian legend as told through the voice of Merlin, the Court Enchanter. Merlin is a young adult in The Hollow Hills who has some idea of the life that lies ahead thanks to knowledge imparted to him by his "Gods." Sometimes Merlin's Gods are so prevalent as to almost be underfoot, and at other times they seem to have all but disappeared leaving him to fight his personal battles and confront life on his own.
The idea of personal Gods is one that rings true with me. I have days when everything runs so smoothly that I know my own Gods must be looking out for me, and other days when life is defined more by obstacles than it is by movement.
Yesterday I stepped into a couple of lines where it looked as though I was doomed to spend a lot of time standing and waiting - but in both of those instances people suddenly started leaving and going other places, and the workers handling the lines also kicked into gear and got things moving. My Gods, I thought, while silently channeling Merlin, were certainly proving to be with me.
But then things changed when I left the airport in Portland, heading down the road in my little steel-gray rental car - a Ford Fiesta. Traffic was unusually heavy on the normal one-hour drive to Salem, and both light rain and darkness settled in before I reached my destination. My Gods had obviously hopped in the wrong rental car and were now making life better for some other tourist.
That's what I thought - but I knew it for sure when I reached my destination, the La Quinta in Salem. The lobby looked empty as I pulled onto the lot and parked. But as I stepped into the lobby one other traveler managed to get between me and the check-in desk. All right, I though, I'm still second - and should be in my room within minutes.
The lady in front of me filled in her card, made small all with the clerk about her rental car ,and then was finishing up when the desk clerk asked an unfortunate question. Was the lady traveling with a pet?
"No," the lady answered. "I do not have a pet - but I do have a service dog." And that point she cut loose with a long and very well practiced diatribe on service animals. She had a captive audience and was going to take full advantage of it. After a few minutes of pontificating about how service animals and under-appreciated by many businesses and individuals, it finally looked as though the person was going to conclude, take a breath, and move on to her room, but then the desk clerk mentioned breakfast and told the lady that her dog, service or not, could not be in the food preparation area. And that was all it took to get her rolling again!
By that point a couple of other people had joined the backlog - and we were all glaring at the person who was keeping us from checking in. My Gods had gone on down the road and were staying somewhere else for the night.
When I finally got registered and went outside park and unload the car, the person in spot number one, the best parking spot for the entire hotel, pulled out just as I was starting my car - and I grabbed that primo spot. My Gods had obviously made it to Salem's La Quinta. They were late in getting there, but they had found me at last!
Today I will be with my Oregon grandchildren - and we will be having fun!
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