The Backroads: Forward-looking and clean-shirted
By Sean Hart
Argus Observer
Sunday, October 19, 2008 1:49 AM PDT
Have you ever had one of those days where you can tell very early in the morning it is just not going to be a good one?
You wake up late and tired to an alarm clock that sounds even more hideous than normal — something you wouldn’t believe was possible until the annoying, repetitive tones echo inside your ears, even under the pillow.
The timer on the coffee pot must have turned itself off at some point during the night, and you wait for the coffee that comes out tasting like slightly-flavored water.
Getting in the shower, you forget to grab a bar of soap and have to use a quart of cheap shampoo that won’t lather.
The traffic on the commute is three times what it regularly is, and, when you make the final turn to get to the office, there is a big detour sign directing you back in the direction from which you came before making that final turn, adding several minutes to an already-late morning.
So, up until this point, you’re thinking the day is starting off pretty normal, not too far from routine and, really, not a bad start to the grind in the hours to come — nothing out of the ordinary, just another drive to work.
Well, this was me as I pulled into the parking lot last week, having just narrowly avoided the big detour sign at the other end of the road. (The one that turned me around the first time was so unmistakably visible, I’m not sure how I didn’t see the one at the bottom of the hill that was pretty much right in front of me as I pulled up to the stop sign by the college’s baseball field, but I about went right through it.)
Then, the real fun started.
As I grabbed my notebooks from the passenger seat of my car, one of them clipped my rearview mirror, which fell straight to the floor, only slowing briefly to knock over my travel coffee mug.
Surprisingly, not too much coffee spilled. At least, I made it inside with none on my clothes.
When lunchtime rolled around, I had to smile at the open view my front window offered, and, as chance would have it, the unattached mirror made me smile again as I enjoyed my lunch in my driver’s seat at a local park.
The cheesy vegetable soup I was eating must have came out through the hole in my lip or something because about a spoonful ended up on my beard — read “bib” (and for all of you who have asked, that’s the secret reason why I grew it).
Normally, it would have taken a craned neck to get my chin into the rearview — I can tell you from experience — but, as a handheld, the mirror worked great.
Who would’ve thought?
Sean Hart is the lifestyle editor for the Argus Observer. He can be contacted at SeanH@argusobserver.com.
