Continued from previous week.
Genie and I have been going to the outer banks every other year for a number of years. It took me a few times to figure out what the real job of Warren, the maintenance man, was, but I finally did. Warren is the personnel, guest relations, maintenance man—all under the same cap.
For example, the following employees learned their great guest relations from him: Kim and Brandy in sales; Dana, the function coordinator; Jennifer, the front office supervisor; Doris, the bubbly housekeeper; Brandi, the greeter at the desk as you walk into the lobby (Warren may be good at greeting, but Brandi is a lot prettier).
The boo-boo sign of our trip read, “No passing when oncoming traffic in ether lane.”
We were in Winston-Salem for two long, enjoyable weekends with Deb and Roland. They showed us the town. We went to the new library. It was the biggest library I’ve ever seen, three stories tall covering more than half a city block, and even one section of open-air seating.
They took us to a place where model airplanes and drones were flown. The investment to fly a plane was about $1,000.
Roland took me to a piano concert in a big church. On each side of the last six rows of pews, a sticker on the pew read, “Please move forward so we might feel a stronger sense of togetherness as we worship.”
Deb and Roland are both runners. They took us to their 5K run on Saturday, March 17. Roland finished first in his age group and Deb finished third in her age group. Deb was drawn for a $100 gift certificate (yes, the color of the day was green for St. Patrick’s Day). Roland is a fantastic runner. He is currently ranked fifth in the United States in the 200-meter dash and fifth in the 400-meter run for his age bracket.
They took us to Quarry Park. It is a quarry that the owners gave to the city to be used as a park. Fantastic was my feeling about the park.
They took us to Salem Lake Park of 1,800 acres with a 365-acre lake; fantastic fishing for largemouth bass, channel catfish, flathead catfish, bream and crappie.
Bobby Hege, the lake’s program supervisor, gave me a “warning, fishing pox very contagious to adult males” sign that read, “Symptoms: Continual complaint as to need for fresh air, sunshine and relaxation. Patient has blank expression, sometimes deaf to wife and kids. Has no taste for work of any kind. Frequent checking of tackle catalogues. Hangs out in sporting goods stores longer than usual. Secret night phone calls to fishing pals. Mumbles to self. Lies to everyone. NO KNOWN CURE.”
My answer to fishing pox is: this is the time of the year when all male Minnesota fishermen have the pox. (Some will admit it, some won’t. I’ll admit it.)
We pull into our garage in Albert Lea, Minnesota. I shut the red HHR off and a message appears on the car info screen:
“You took me on a 3,000-mile sabbatical away from snow. I am streaked with salt from all the snow and slush. I even have sand you can hear as you lower and raise my windows. You drove me through drifting sand.
Please grease, change my oil and filter, wash, rinse, wax and vacuum my insides and I’ll be ready to go to Arkansas in April.
Your faithful,
Red HHR”
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Bob is a retired AAL (Aid Association for Lutherans) agent, currently working on his master’s degree in Volunteering. His wife, Genie, is a retired RN, currently working on her doctor’s degree in Volunteering. They have two children, Deb in North Carolina, and Dan in Vermont. Bob says if you enjoy his column, let him know. If you don’t enjoy it, keep on reading, it can get worse. Words of wisdom: There is always room for God.