I'll stick with a regular cup of joe from now on.)
Sometime after passing through the above pass it stated to rain. See those dark clouds up there? They were for real.
Shortly after I entered into the rain god's domain.. windshield wipers slappin' time, my windshield wipers ceased to work.. chink! goodbye wipers.. helloo! Can't see crap as I am careening down the mountain road.
I'm frantically twisting the little on/offy knob to get them to work as I'm coasting slower, listing nearer to the side of the road.
Whoops! Hey now, they are working again. OK, Hit it!
Umm, definite problem here, I'm thinking. (well yeah)
I go a few miles further, wipers working fine and I'm hoping to find an exit.
Chink.. dead again. double the crap. Slow down!
This time the wiper blades stop at full extension and I roll the window down, reach my hand out and around and give the wiper a flip.
Hey, working again! That did it. Just thump the damn thing!
Yep.. clearly we have a problem here, Houston.
Some luck presents itself finally. (wipers still working chinka chinka chinka chinka)
An exit somewhere south of Cumberland, MD presents itself and takes me down into a little country berg.
Whew.. made it safe.
I roll into a small restaurant parking lot. people outside smoking.
Wipers quit again, but so has the rain nearly let up. Only light sprinkles now.
I go in and have breakfast and try to think what my next plan is.
Not being one to automatically call for help (yeah, I'm a guy, do-it-myself is in my DNA.)I come back out of the Greasy Spoon Cafe, open the hood and stick my nose into the works to see what I can see. I turn on the wipers.
nothing.
I go back to the front and wiggle the wiper motor. It starts again. Watching the action I notice that a screw is loose. "AhHa!" I thinks.
Of course I have no tools with me. (I will rectify that from now on).. neither does the restaurant folks. No gas station, no stores in sight but there is a small market place I passed just after exiting the Interstate.
I hop in the truck and drive back up the road to the parking lot of the market.. I slow down for a bigger white pickup pulling in just ahead of me.
Now here is where this whole little show gets just downright interesting.
Serendipitous presentments, one might say. I really do like them when they happen.
I pull in beside Big White.
I see there inside the truck is a woman readying herself to go into the market to buy something.
An "angel" was there just waiting for me (unbeknownst to the angel of course), just at that exact passing moment in time when I needed her.
Ok.. This is hopeless, I think.
Chances are small and none that she will have a socket and ratchet that fits so I can tighten up this bolt (Also I discovered earlier from seeing a spark as the bolt wiggled that it was a grounding bolt for the wiper motor.. quite essential for the motor to work and I was 50 percent happy that I at least knew what the problem was.)
I get out of my truck, walk around the front, do a light tap on her window and step back. (I really hate doing that. No doubt a twinge of apprehension coursed though her. You know, "oh gawd, what's this guy want?"
Glad I at least shaved this morning and didn't look too bummified!)
I quickly told her my problem and ask if perchance she might have a socket set on her.
(do you see the humor of this?.. I mean, how many women carry around a socket set. I don't even carry around a socket set!)
I think she realized that I wasn't going to hit her up for some change (or worse) and quickly enough said to me, "Well let's see. This is my husband's truck and he might have something here."
She digs around behind and underneath the seat and comes up with a rolled up, dirty old leather something that has an assortment of tools inside.
Waaa.. there's a socket and ratchet. It fits.
She goes inside to buy whatever she stopped for and I tighten up the bolt. I try the wipers. They work. I must assume that that was the problem and they will work fine now.
I'm feelin' much better. The sun is even peeking out.
The Angel (her name is Barbara) comes back out of the store. We speak for a couple of moments throwing sparsely chosen essentials at one another so we can both get on our separate ways. I tell her of Patti and she tells me she is a psycho-therapist.
We both live in Washington DC not far from one another. She occasionally comes up this way for a reason I've forgotten. We both shop at the Tenleytown Whole Foods. I give her my billandpatti blog address for her amusement along with my thorough appreciation.
And.. off we go.
I don't know.. there's just something about that whole roll, the perfect timing of pulling into the parking lot that hints slightly of a mystical coincidence.
Or.. maybe not. Sometimes "a cigar is just a cigar". Who's to say for certain about such small wonders in this life.
A few miles down the road I gave thought about the concept of "6 degrees of separation" and if it might apply in this case.
We'll never know. It doesn't matter.
So Angel Barbara.. if perchance you are reading this I thank you again so much for being in the right place at just the perfect time. May someone be there for you when you need them.
Presentments. Nexus.
The rest of the day went fine.
It didn't rain.
The highway was my skyway as I sailed along.
Tonight, writing this I'm in Columbus, Ohio in a motel surrounded by fast fooderies.
Time for bed.
I've got a long day ahead tomorrow.
