People of a certain age will identify with this sad story. The rest of you, well, you will understand it soon enough. And while I say it’s sad, the good news is that it is redeemed by a happy ending.
The theme is that while we can be stupid, we can also be brilliant. Or, something like it, anyway.
Recently I was scrounging some free firewood from a tree sawed up and left on the curb on West Garden Street. It was conveniently cut into firewood length, so all I had to do was load it into my truck.
In doing so, my reading glasses kept falling out of my shirt pocket. Fearing that I would lose or step on them, I finally stuck the glasses on the roof of the truck. Yes, I know, a bad move. I told myself exactly that as I was doing it. But there was only one log left, and I put the glasses directly above the driver side door. Surely, I thought, there was no way, in that short time, that I would forget they were there. And if I did forget, well, surely I would see them as I was opening the door to leave.
You, of course, know what comes next.
After delivering the firewood to the house we are building downtown, I was in the parking lot of the Publix on Cervantes Street when I realized I did not have my glasses. After looking for awhile, I had an oh no moment … and I knew.
My first thought was to let them go. But I paid six bucks for those glasses, they were almost new and my favorite pair, and having to give in to my own stupidity would be both galling and embarrassing.
So, I decided to try to find them.
First, I looked in the bed of the pickup, hoping they had been blown off the roof while I was driving. But, no.
Most likely, I thought, they would be lying where I parked next to the pile of firewood. So I drove back, and scoured the surrounding area. Again, no.
So I decided to follow my route back downtown along Garden Street, watching the pavement for a pair of smashed reading glasses. Fortunately it was a Sunday morning, so traffic was light.
In mentally retracing my path, the next likeliest landing spot had to be D Street, where I remembered taking a hard right turn. If somehow the glasses had clung to the roof that long, a right turn would cause them to slide off to the left.
As I pulled up to the light at Barrancas, I thought I saw the twinkle of sunlight reflecting off glass on D Street. Turning through the intersection, I watched the pavement … and there they were. And not only were they there, they had fallen with the lenses up, so there were no scratches on the glass.
I pulled over, hopped out and grabbed the glasses off the road, none the worse for wear.
To say I felt brilliant is an understatement. If nothing else, it was the easiest six bucks I ever made.