{"id":302,"date":"2007-12-21T12:55:53","date_gmt":"2007-12-21T16:55:53","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.summerofjim.com\/2007\/12\/21\/the-perfect-ride\/"},"modified":"2007-12-21T12:55:53","modified_gmt":"2007-12-21T16:55:53","slug":"the-perfect-ride","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/summerofjim.com\/?p=302","title":{"rendered":"The Perfect Ride"},"content":{"rendered":"

“It’s a<\/em> <\/em>quarter to three<\/em>, there’s no one in the place except you and me…”<\/em>\u00a0 <\/p>\n

Well, first off, it wasn’t a quarter to three.\u00a0 It was more like 12:15AM.\u00a0 12:15AM\u00a0on a Tuesday evening at the Ash Creek Saloon.\u00a0 But the bar was dead.\u00a0 A half dozen souls at most.<\/p>\n

“So set ’em up Joe.\u00a0 I gotta little story I think you should know…”<\/em><\/p>\n

And the bartender wasn’t Joe… but “Mags”.\u00a0 Still, there\u00a0was something about that Sinatra tune that buzzed in my head… it just seemed\u00a0that the sound\u00a0fit as a backdrop for the story that was about to be related to me.\u00a0 Not by Mags… but by a nameless stranger.<\/p>\n

I wasn’t at Ash Creek to listen to a stranger weave a tale.\u00a0 When I’m there, I keep to myself.\u00a0 I was there to begin writing a piece on the “Cult of Personality.”\u00a0 I wanted to re-visit Khrushchev’s famous speech to the Politburo when he condemned the excesses of Stalin and Stalinism and it’s cult of personality.\u00a0\u00a0<\/em>I had a different slant that I was tinkering with, and I do some of my best tinkering <\/em>with a Wild Turkey Straight Rye in front\u00a0of me…<\/p>\n

So when I saw this stranger in a navy beret sitting one stool over enjoying the same sippin’ whisky, I took note and found it impossible not to extend a friendly nod and a raise\u00a0of the glass in salute.\u00a0 Not too many folks drink Wild Turkey Rye Whisky.<\/p>\n

“We’re drinkin’ my friend to\u00a0the end of\u00a0a brief episode… “<\/em><\/p>\n

I thought that the nod and a shared hoist of the cup<\/em> would satisfy the rules of the bar…<\/em> as it pertained to hospitality.\u00a0 <\/em>I was anxious to return to my personal thoughts and\u00a0scribble out a few words.\u00a0 But his voice cut thru the quiet of the bar… and stopped me.<\/p>\n

“What would be your best day?”<\/p>\n

There was a richness to his voice.\u00a0 Mellow, but intensely strong and with a bit of a scratch… fueled perhaps by years of cigarette smoke and good whisky.\u00a0 It sounded like he had studied for the stage… he had that “documentary narrative voice”… a voice that both soothed and commanded.\u00a0\u00a0Imagine Morgan Freeman doing the voice over in Shawshank Redemption<\/em>.<\/p>\n

“Think about it”, he continued.\u00a0 “Strip away all that is a trial in your life and build <\/em>a day… what would it look like?”\u00a0 He sipped his whisky.\u00a0 And I mine.<\/p>\n

OK.\u00a0 I could picture getting up just after sun break and looking at a curve of sand, blue water turning slowly on to shore.\u00a0 A day filled with warming sun, a cooling sea breeze and a piercingly cold dry martini at four.\u00a0 That sounded close to perfection to me.\u00a0 But I wasn’t sure that I wanted to share that with a stranger… even if he sipped Wild Turkey Rye.<\/p>\n

“Well… I’m not sure.\u00a0 Can I get back to you?”<\/p>\n

If I thought that my response would put him off from taking this conversation <\/em>further, I was mistaken.<\/p>\n

“How often do\u00a0you dream about a perfect day?\u00a0 Particularly if you’ve taken one on the chin the day before.\u00a0 You know, you had a perfectly rotten Monday.\u00a0 Then Tuesday comes… wouldn’t it be great: going to your morning coffee place, buying an ‘instant lotto’ and hitting it<\/em>, then hitting<\/em> on the new hire at work and scoring a date, and then hitting <\/em>it off that night and scoring?\u00a0 <\/em>You know the type of day?\u00a0 Perfect<\/em>, huh?”<\/p>\n

I nodded.\u00a0 It seemed the appropriate thing to do.\u00a0 I was really trying to separate from the conversation.\u00a0 But his voice<\/em>… His voice lulled me.\u00a0 It was like putting on a pair of soft slippers.\u00a0 It was something you couldn’t ignore or take for granted.\u00a0 It was as if it was a privilege<\/em> just to hear his very words.<\/p>\n

He continued.\u00a0 “Well, I know this fellah… who lives for making every traffic light on his way to and from work.\u00a0 It’s his dream.”<\/p>\n

I nodded, although my instinct was to ignore his intrusion into my thoughts.\u00a0 But I identified with the description of this guy.\u00a0 I hate<\/u> red lights.\u00a0 So I put down my pen.\u00a0 Sipped my whisky and prepared to listen.\u00a0 The Cult of Personality<\/em> could wait.<\/p>\n

“This guy… he travels the same road from his home to work and back again.\u00a0 In the morning\u00a0he\u00a0is on that road every day within three minutes of the same time.\u00a0 He knows each turn and bump.\u00a0 Every house, place of business, strip mall.\u00a0 He knows where the cops perch in ambush.”\u00a0 He sipped his whisky and shook his head.\u00a0 Took off his beret, placed it on the bar and ran his fingers thru his neatly combed silver hair.<\/p>\n

“He knows the cars and vans that travel the same stretch.\u00a0 Which one turns off on Route 59, and which one pulls into the Doughnut Inn.\u00a0 Folks who\u00a0are complete strangers\u00a0are ‘known’ to him… that’s the green Outback, left tail light out.\u00a0 That’s the white van with the ‘SCREWU’ plate.\u00a0 Each driver shares a portion of their day, alone but together.”<\/p>\n

I nodded.<\/p>\n

“You have to see that for this guy, his ride becomes emblematic\u00a0of his life… its successes, its losses.\u00a0 Miss the light by St. Paul’s Church and his day would be diminished.\u00a0 But it\u00a0is more than missing a light and possibly delaying his arrival time… missing a light for you\u00a0or me? We\u00a0would think of it as a chance occurrence.\u00a0 No.\u00a0 This guy feels he<\/em>\u00a0is responsible.\u00a0 Not making a light becomes his<\/em> fault.\u00a0 He might not have been helped by the car in front of him that stopped at the light to make a turn.\u00a0 Never mind… he gets angry.\u00a0 Missing the light?\u00a0\u00a0He sees it as a failure.<\/p>\n

Well… I don’t take it quite that far.\u00a0 I hate missing lights.\u00a0 But me?\u00a0 I would be blaming the asshole who was stopped to take a left at the light.<\/p>\n

“Everyday this guy dreams<\/u> for the perfect ride.<\/em>\u00a0 So today he comes down Route 6, make the light at Canfield Corner, then the light at St. Paul’s, then the light at the Ovens of France… proceeds smoothly… no cops in sight, make the light at Turkey Hill, green at the Heritage Village turn-off, and green at the big shopping plaza intersection before the I-84 ramp… first leg of the ride is done!”<\/p>\n

He took time for a smile.\u00a0 “It’s like reaching the fifth inning and you’re still working on a perfect game.\u00a0 His first thought is: ‘I am<\/em>\u00a0not going to think about it<\/em>!’\u00a0 Of course he can’t help himself… how can he not get a wee bit excited?\u00a0 But he doesn’t want to jinx himself, you know what I mean?<\/p>\n

“So there he is… ‘unscathed’ by the time he swings on to I-84.\u00a0\u00a0Route 6 had been a\u00a0straight ride, not even a hint of a slow down.\u00a0 And now a\u00a0clean ride on 84… no trucks, no annoying lane hogs… and most importantly, no gendarmes.\u00a0 <\/em>Get off at Exit 11… clean to the Toddy Hill short cut, and connect with Route 25 at Swamp Rd.\u00a0 2 miles on Route 25, a ‘blinky’ and\u00a0three greens and then right on to Route 59.\u00a0 Ha-hoo!”<\/p>\n

We both take a sip at the ha-hoo.<\/em><\/p>\n

“Well, you know what they say.\u00a0 The first six innings are a snap… lotsa pitchers carry perfect games to the seventh frame.\u00a0 But this guy is in the middle of a charmed <\/em>ride… maybe it’s destiny?\u00a0 He gets thru the light at the junction of Route 136 and 58 and has a\u00a05.7 mile stretch with no lights… just a twisting lane thru Easton, Fairfield and Westport.\u00a0 No lights… and plenty of time to think.\u00a0 To think how great things are going so far.<\/p>\n

“In Westport he has seven lights.\u00a0 This is the supreme<\/em> test.\u00a0 There had been other mornings when he had made all the lights thru to 136\/58.\u00a0 But he had never made all the Westport lights.\u00a0 <\/em>Many of these lights have a ‘pain in the ass’ reputation… and glory of glories… this morning he makes each and every one!\u00a0 No need to rush thru a ‘yellow’… no need to slow down to encourage a green<\/em>.\u00a0 No, his timing is perfect… <\/em>and he is feeling on top of the world.\u00a0 What luck!\u00a0 He is a success!\u00a0 Do you think that he is thinking that perhaps he had been too greedy<\/em> in making all those lights?\u00a0 That maybe he should have left ‘something on the table’?\u00a0 Saved a ‘key green’ for another ride?\u00a0 No, he has no thoughts along those lines.\u00a0 He is as happy as a kid in a\u00a0sweet shop!\u00a0 And the ‘cherry on the sundae’ is that he gets\u00a0the<\/em> perfect parking spot at work… that in itself is a treat of treats!\u00a0 He has gotten that spot exactly\u00a0twice<\/u> in\u00a0six years!\u00a0 A perfect ride, and then a perfect parking spot! A perfect day!”\u00a0 He raised his glass in triumph.<\/p>\n

Yeah, I could see that this would make for a great Tuesday. “I guess that guy is happy now.”<\/p>\n

“Happy?\u00a0 Well, maybe you could say that… I think he finally has a degree of peace.”<\/p>\n

He looked at his glass of rye.\u00a0 Shook the ice a bit.\u00a0 “About this story… I should tell you, there is one incorrect<\/em> detail.\u00a0 I said that I know\u00a0<\/em>the guy.\u00a0 I should have said that I knew\u00a0<\/em>the guy.\u00a0 You see… that fellah died this morning just after he parked his car.\u00a0 You might say that he was called to his<\/em> greater reward.<\/em>”\u00a0 He raised his glass again in toast.<\/p>\n

“Died<\/em>?\u00a0 How did you hear?”<\/p>\n

“I know.<\/em>“<\/p>\n

This was more than I expected.\u00a0 I didn’t know what to think, what to believe.\u00a0 I fiddled with my glass.\u00a0 I used the pause to hit the “john”.\u00a0 And when I got back to my stool, the stranger<\/em> was not to be seen… nor was there a trace of his presence.\u00a0 No empty glass or wet bar nap or navy beret.\u00a0 Mags was talking to someone down the other end of the bar.\u00a0 I thought about asking him where the stranger went to…<\/p>\n

I decided against it.\u00a0 <\/p>\n

I didn’t want Mags to say, “what stranger”?\u00a0 I didn’t want to think that I had just been sipping Wild Turkey by myself and that I just lived thru a Rod Serling script from the Twighlight Zone.\u00a0 <\/em>Maybe he had been there, and maybe he hadn’t<\/em>.\u00a0\u00a0But the possibility that he hadn’t been there<\/em> scared the shit out me.\u00a0 It’s not too often\u00a0you get to share a drink with the angel of death.<\/em><\/p>\n

The Sinatra tune came back into my head… “Make it one for my baby, and one more for the road…” <\/em><\/p>\n

I looked at my unfinished rye… and decided to leave some on the table.<\/em>\u00a0 All in all, I’m not ready to have a perfect day.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

“It’s a quarter to three, there’s no one in the place except you and me…”\u00a0 Well, first off, it wasn’t a quarter to three.\u00a0 It was more like 12:15AM.\u00a0 12:15AM\u00a0on a Tuesday evening at the Ash Creek Saloon.\u00a0 But the … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[14],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-302","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-the-ash-creek-bourbon-conversation-corner"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/summerofjim.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/302","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/summerofjim.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/summerofjim.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/summerofjim.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/summerofjim.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=302"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/summerofjim.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/302\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/summerofjim.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=302"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/summerofjim.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=302"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/summerofjim.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=302"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}