more normal than not

I replaced the starter on the Grand Caravan last night.

I did it so that we could all go to church this morning.

Watch the first part of this video to see what really gives me problems when I do this job.

It’s the plate that is the bugger.

It is really hard to put the starter back in its proper position and keep the plate correctly oriented at the same time

I called it a lot of things last night….and, if I called it “bugger”, it was probably the most benign thing that I called that plate “under my breath”.

I may have said it loudly.

“Under my breath” is designed to make me look better than the angry and greasy little man I was last night.

The irony is that I walked into church this morning like I hadn’t been cussing like a sailor last night.

What a greasy hypocrite.

When I went to church this morning, I was clean on the outside.

I’d washed the grease off my skin.

I’m glad that they didn’t play a video of me in the gravel on the Jumbotron when I sat down in the pew.

That would have been bad for me.

Watch how very patient this fellow is.

That’s pretty nice to be so controlled.

My little girl burnt her finger a little this morning….getting something out of the toaster.

When she looked at the “boo-boo”, she said, “Darn!! That’s my BOOGER PICKIN’ FINGER!!”.

That’s my princess.

I hope her finger gets better soon.

Prick is too strong a word.

There’s nothing Christian about the word “prick”.

I should have said “God Bless Bob the Weiner”.

That would have been nicer.

I started up one of the roads on my circuit to mail completion this afternoon….and was blocked by Bob….Bob the….Weiner.

He was having his minions do some road work….and the dump truck and trackhoe were blocking the road…and I couldn’t get by.

After a long wait, he had the dump truck move so I could head up the hill….but I think that he only did it so that he could trap me on the return trip.

When I got back to his little construction project…I sat….and I sat….and….I sat.

Finally, after eating my lunch and watching my fast day turn into a normal delivery day, he let me by.

I stopped and asked him, “Are you the fellow who lives in that house?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Bob”.

Bob the Prick, I thought.

I don’t know what that A-hole’s problem is….but….instead of wondering what twisted world he lives in and how I could hasten his descent into the fiery bowels of Hell…..maybe….I should say….

“GOD BLESS BOB!! THE WEINER!!”

I could say that, you know?

What makes Bob’s world better….ultimately….makes my world better.

I can’t control what all these people do.

I’m not some weird Svengali.

I can’t control or predict what these kooks are going to try and pull on me.

But….I can say, in my head and my heart, “God Bless You….Kook.”

I don’t want to walk a mile in anybody’s shoes….but a friend is a lot more fun than a foe.

Maybe I should ask Bob what his problem is next time I see him?

Maybe it’s a burden I can help him get past?

Bob the Weiner! What’s the matter?! Why you such a goob?

Can’t we all just get along?

Now move that freaking backhoe! I gots mail to deliver!

I need to take the family out to see some live music soon.

Man.