It's Finals Week. Unlike several of my close friends, I'm not in college, slaving away over horrible tests and exams. I chuckle sometimes when I think about exams because I'm cold-hearted like that. But lately, I've been subjected to quizzes and exams with hardly any prior notice. If you think NOT going to college makes you exempt from getting tested, well then you failed that pop quiz!
In life, you aren't given a schedule that tells you when your life-skills will be examined. A few days ago my patience was tested. On Friday, I scheduled a much-needed chiropractor appointment for 4:30pm and eagerly watched the clock arms wade through molasses toward the appointment time. Like any important event, the prior hours crawled along until it was time to leave and then the clock hit the afterburners and I was suddenly late for my treatment. Rushing from the office, I met none other than Fred Wagner, whom everyone and their parents call "Driver Ed Fred". Several of my dear readers will know who that venerable man is, but for those of you who don't, all you need to know is that he has single-handedly (well, one hand and one claw) taught 96% of Southeast Iowa how to drive, including myself. He's also a caretaker of the little white church in Joetown. Joetown is the little village, population 120, (maybe? 36 if the annual picnic is an indication of town population) a mile from where I grew up.
"Ah, yes, Shawn." Mr. Wagner said, in no particular hurry. "The furnace in the church seems to be cycling. It isn't running quite right. Perhaps you could stop by and take a look at it sometime, when you're driving by." I hastily promised that we would take a look at it sometime in the near future. After all, we drive past the church in Joetown no less than 4 times a day, so it wasn't like it would require a special trip. (Later when I mentioned Fred's request to Dad, he laughed and said "We can do exactly nothing for that furnace. It's been on its last leg for the past 15 years.")
He thanked me and ambled back to his pickup, which had coincidentally parked me in. He eased into the driver's seat and subsequently forgot how to drive for 30 seconds. The man who was able to uncannily tell when I wasn't using my side mirrors enough was staring at the dash of his pickup like it was a Latin manuscript. He slowly recollected his 40+ years of driver's educating and drove out the driveway. I erroneously assumed he would head LEFT toward Joetown to go putter around in the church for a bit. Instead, he turned RIGHT toward Wellman. I suppose it was logical, seeing how Fred lives in Wellman. But so does the chiropractor I was trying to get to! It was like Fred was mentally discerning my schedule and gumming it up on purpose. Uncanny.
The road connecting Graber Heating & Air to Wellman is curvy, scenic, and unpaved. It's gravel-topped surface is currently covered in a thin layer of hard-packed snow, which rivals glare ice. That little fact seems irrelevant to the drivers that race past our shop doing north of 60mph, but the hazardous condition wasn't lost on Driver Ed Fred, who drove precisely 20mph. I could almost audibly hear a professor speak "Your exam on Patience begins now."
Driver Ed Fred knows everyone. You may not have heard of him before this post, but it's very likely he knows you. I couldn't just blast past him, because I'd forever be known as a reckless driver who has little heed for other travelers. (Who am I kidding, I'm already known for that.) Mr. Wagner sensed my predicament (Truly, that man is uncanny.) and pulled over to the side to let me pass. Did he sense I was in dire straits to get my neck back into alignment? Perhaps he's developed a keen awareness of the dread Graber Lead Foot, a symptom he was reminded of as I tailgated him for two miles.
So I passed him, but I doubt I passed the Patience exam.
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