Tad's Life

Some phone numbers you really shouldn't know. You should have to look them up.

Like the number for the ambulance. Or the police. Or the auto mechanic. If you have them memorized, life has just been a little too interesting lately.

643-2901. That's Ousmane's telephone number. He's our auto mechanic. Argh!!!!!

Isn't that a nice looking SUV there in the photo? Doesn't she look like a cute little vehicle?

Don't you believe it! That old car is the vehicular equivalent of a sink hole. Dollars keep going into her, but she never fills up. Clutch hydraulics. Oil pumps. Flat tires. Electric windows. Batteries. You name it. We've replaced it. Probably more than once. I won't even mention things that are broken that we've given up on ever trying to fix!

Then recently black smoke started pouring out of the exhaust pipe. "The engine needs rebuilt," Ousmane said. New rings and all that good stuff. I explained my lack of money and the fact that it only had to last another 8 months. We're going on furlough. I'm going to sell this machine.

Foolish man that I am. It just got so bad that oil was dripping out the tail pipe. So, into the shop she went.

OK. I know that I'm whining again. I really shouldn't. It's not like I'm really suffering, but you can understand the level of frustration and financial tension.

Then one night two weeks back I went to the airport to pick up Jose and France-lise. That went just fine until I reached Ouakam on my way home. It was rather late and the street was unusually empty. I spotted a fellow running barefoot down the street toward me in the other lane. I'm a good driver. I slowed down a bit and then came to a complete stop when he came right toward me. But he didn't stop. He ran right up and with perfect Major League form threw a fist-size rock at my wind shield. Whack!

Really.

I tried to duck, of course. And when I looked up, I could see the man standing off on the side of the street to my left looking vaguely confused.

Sure, I was scared. And a bit ticked. I'm afraid I said, "You're nuts!" (in French, that is) and drove off rather quickly.

No, I didn't seek to have a conversation with the man. I was immediately sure he was not mentally stable and clearly violent. I was alone as far as I knew.

And do you know the first thought that came to mind? "Ah well. No big deal. The wind shield was already broken." Believe it or not, someone else had thrown a stone earlier that day, right across the street Jane was driving on and it had made a small crack! Kids hunting a lizard? Some other crazy guy on the street? Who knows, but for me that night for some stupid reason that was a comfort!

For a couple days really. Until Ousmane at 643-2901 gave me an estimate for a new wind shield!