Last week I felt for the antagonist in Judith Viorst's children's book "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day." Because I had my own terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
Sure, in the grand scheme of things the entire day was simply mild inconveniences. But it was one day that I just couldn't wait to be over.
The date in question was Wednesday, May 9. I normally guide my days with very few solid plans, especially that extend to multiple time-influenced meetings. I don't like a structured schedule, but I have to live in a world of it.
For Wednesday, however, I had a plan. A solid plan. The best plan, to borrow a phrase from a famous person who shares my birthday.
It looked like this:
• 7 a.m., breakfast with the children.
• 7:35 a.m., take Perla to school.
• 8:45 a.m., drive to Madison for a 30-minute appointment scheduled for 10 a.m. (I aim to live my life punctually, so I like to leave 30-minute windows in case of traffic or a tractor).
• Noon, drive to Edelweiss Country Club to cover high school golf.
• 2 p.m., interview Cincinnati Bengals WR Alex Erickson by phone.
• 3 p.m., get to work to begin writing my stories.
• 7 p.m., take a dinner break.
• 11 p.m., leave work well ahead of deadline and get to bed early.
Exactly one of those things happened as planned.
The children decided to delay breakfast and their morning routine, and Perla and I left 10 minutes later than usual. The drive to Madison happened as scheduled, but the dental office was short-staffed and behind schedule. Instead of walking out the door at 10:30 or even 10:45, it was 11:45.
Storms were brewing in the distance, and I knew the golf meet could be in jeopardy. I grabbed my camera from home in Monroe and at the S-turn near Burgy Creek south of Monticello, I noticed I had a flat tire. The time? Just past 1 p.m. This isn't the first flat tire of my life, but it is the first where my wheel was completely rusted to the drum.
With only the spare tire and a softball bat in my weapons arsenal, it took a long time to get that tire off. I beat it, I rammed it as hard as I could without damaging the rim (or the bat), I breathed heavily and mumbled a slew of words that hopefully my grandmother couldn't hear from heaven. I am out of shape, and it was hot. My knees did not like being on the pavement of Gutzmer Road, and my back did not like being forced to bend over. My day at this point was fully inconvenienced, the clock was ticking closer to 2 p.m. - my interview time with our local NFL hero - and I was in a Verizon Wireless dead zone.
To my luck, Dave Tuell brought me all the tools. Tuell works at Greenwoods State Bank and was headed to Monticello when he saw me on the side of the road, stopping to help. We lathered the tire in WD-40, slammed it with a hammer, even dropped it back to the ground and drove on it a few feet here and there hoping a hard brake would help pop it loose. Nope.
Finally, Tuell brought out his X-Factor club - a boat hitch. Within just a couple of turns my rusted wheel popped right off and within minutes my Corolla was ready to drive free and easy down the road again.
I thanked Tuell, a stranger I had never met before, for his assistance. The time was 2 p.m., and I drove toward Edelweiss. By the time I hit the parking lot, I had a phone signal again and missed my call from Erickson, but I called him right back and we had a wonderful chat. I covered Erickson when he was in high school, and he has always been a great interviewee - and a humble guy. It was the highlight of my day.
After I got off the phone, I wandered around the golf course, having to wait about 30 minutes for the next group to make the turn between the front and back nine. I took my photos and feverishly refreshed my radar. The storms were thundering just a few miles south in Monticello. In fact, I escaped a supercell with heavy winds, rain and hail by just about 20 minutes from where my tire went flat.
So, I guess I caught a little bit of a break?
When I got to work, there were more unforeseen circumstances to take care of and by the time I got home for the night, it was much closer to bar time than the nightly news.
Alexander's mom told him in the book that everybody has a bad day once in a while and that tomorrow will be different. I remembered that lesson 25 years after reading the book at Northside Elementary School for the first time. "Tomorrow will be better," I told myself. And it was.
But not before a cold beer on my couch at 2 a.m.
- Adam Krebs is a reporter for the Monroe Times and is adding a boat hitch and a toolkit for the trunk of his car. He can be reached at akrebs@themonroetimes.net.
Sure, in the grand scheme of things the entire day was simply mild inconveniences. But it was one day that I just couldn't wait to be over.
The date in question was Wednesday, May 9. I normally guide my days with very few solid plans, especially that extend to multiple time-influenced meetings. I don't like a structured schedule, but I have to live in a world of it.
For Wednesday, however, I had a plan. A solid plan. The best plan, to borrow a phrase from a famous person who shares my birthday.
It looked like this:
• 7 a.m., breakfast with the children.
• 7:35 a.m., take Perla to school.
• 8:45 a.m., drive to Madison for a 30-minute appointment scheduled for 10 a.m. (I aim to live my life punctually, so I like to leave 30-minute windows in case of traffic or a tractor).
• Noon, drive to Edelweiss Country Club to cover high school golf.
• 2 p.m., interview Cincinnati Bengals WR Alex Erickson by phone.
• 3 p.m., get to work to begin writing my stories.
• 7 p.m., take a dinner break.
• 11 p.m., leave work well ahead of deadline and get to bed early.
Exactly one of those things happened as planned.
The children decided to delay breakfast and their morning routine, and Perla and I left 10 minutes later than usual. The drive to Madison happened as scheduled, but the dental office was short-staffed and behind schedule. Instead of walking out the door at 10:30 or even 10:45, it was 11:45.
Storms were brewing in the distance, and I knew the golf meet could be in jeopardy. I grabbed my camera from home in Monroe and at the S-turn near Burgy Creek south of Monticello, I noticed I had a flat tire. The time? Just past 1 p.m. This isn't the first flat tire of my life, but it is the first where my wheel was completely rusted to the drum.
With only the spare tire and a softball bat in my weapons arsenal, it took a long time to get that tire off. I beat it, I rammed it as hard as I could without damaging the rim (or the bat), I breathed heavily and mumbled a slew of words that hopefully my grandmother couldn't hear from heaven. I am out of shape, and it was hot. My knees did not like being on the pavement of Gutzmer Road, and my back did not like being forced to bend over. My day at this point was fully inconvenienced, the clock was ticking closer to 2 p.m. - my interview time with our local NFL hero - and I was in a Verizon Wireless dead zone.
To my luck, Dave Tuell brought me all the tools. Tuell works at Greenwoods State Bank and was headed to Monticello when he saw me on the side of the road, stopping to help. We lathered the tire in WD-40, slammed it with a hammer, even dropped it back to the ground and drove on it a few feet here and there hoping a hard brake would help pop it loose. Nope.
Finally, Tuell brought out his X-Factor club - a boat hitch. Within just a couple of turns my rusted wheel popped right off and within minutes my Corolla was ready to drive free and easy down the road again.
I thanked Tuell, a stranger I had never met before, for his assistance. The time was 2 p.m., and I drove toward Edelweiss. By the time I hit the parking lot, I had a phone signal again and missed my call from Erickson, but I called him right back and we had a wonderful chat. I covered Erickson when he was in high school, and he has always been a great interviewee - and a humble guy. It was the highlight of my day.
After I got off the phone, I wandered around the golf course, having to wait about 30 minutes for the next group to make the turn between the front and back nine. I took my photos and feverishly refreshed my radar. The storms were thundering just a few miles south in Monticello. In fact, I escaped a supercell with heavy winds, rain and hail by just about 20 minutes from where my tire went flat.
So, I guess I caught a little bit of a break?
When I got to work, there were more unforeseen circumstances to take care of and by the time I got home for the night, it was much closer to bar time than the nightly news.
Alexander's mom told him in the book that everybody has a bad day once in a while and that tomorrow will be different. I remembered that lesson 25 years after reading the book at Northside Elementary School for the first time. "Tomorrow will be better," I told myself. And it was.
But not before a cold beer on my couch at 2 a.m.
- Adam Krebs is a reporter for the Monroe Times and is adding a boat hitch and a toolkit for the trunk of his car. He can be reached at akrebs@themonroetimes.net.
