1. Because I live on the opposite side of the USA from our grandchildren, I don't have many opportunities to be Grandpa (or, as I am known in the Langford home, Bop). Today, though, Jack's had to do go to virtual school because the school he attends was closed because of the heat. I didn't actually have to, but out of curiosity, I sat at the dining table for a while and listened to Jack's teacher chat informally with her students on Zoom before school actually started and then listened for about ten minutes or so as she launched into the morning's social studies lesson.
I was favorably impressed with Jack's teacher's rapport with her fourth graders and with the way the children talked openly with her. My practice as a teacher was to try to persuade the students that I was on their side, that we were not engaged in teacher vs. student conflict, and it sounded to me like Mrs. Parnther was on her students' side and loved working with them.
The social studies unit focused on child labor in the USA. MB and I used to put some focus on this subject back when we taught American Working Class Literature together so I have some familiarity with it. I thought Mrs. Parnther covered it very well and I wondered if Jack and the other children could imagine what it would be like if, as children, they were working to help support their families. I didn't see the pictures Mrs. Parnther showed them of malnourished, underdressed children working, but I looked up some photographs on my own and, felt, as I have before, outrage at the cruelty of children being laborers.
Later, Debbie took Ellie on another nap drive -- it's too noisy for her to nap with the workers putting new siding on the house -- and I kept an eye on Jack, from a distance, and was happy to see him staying on task with his school session before the lunch break.
2. Around 3:00, I drove to The Salvation Army Eastern Territorial Headquarters to give Adrienne a ride home from her job. In the car, Adrienne told me that Jack's dad, Nathan, wouldn't be able to pick up Jack to go to the rock climbing facility in New Jersey for Jack's weekly climbing session, but would meet Jack at High Exposure Rock Climbing in Northvale.
I volunteered to drive Jack to the facility.
By this time, a heavy rainstorm had moved into the area.
I didn't think much of it and Jack and I headed south on Rt 303 around 4:30.
We weren't quite to New Jersey yet when we came to an intersection blocked off by the police because a river of water was running over Rt. 303. I followed other cars to the west and then the south and back east and we circumvented this flooded area and returned to Rt. 303.
But, the hard rain was causing water to pool up all around us on the streets. We came to another blocked off place and on the second try, I managed to circumvent this and, with the help of google's gps, I got on the correct route to the rock climbing facility.
I had already decided that I was not going to drive the Nissan Versa I had rented through any of the standing water in the street. I was able to bypass one pond by cutting through a parking lot, but while driving toward our destination, another lake on the road was filling up in front of us and I said to Jack, "I'm not driving through that!"
Let's just say that at this moment I had just become the world's least popular grandpa.
Jack said he could just walk to the facility -- I thought to myself, you must mean swim.
As Jack's agitation grew, I called Adrienne (no answer) and then called Debbie (who answered), hoping one of them could reach Nathan (I didn't have his number). While I worked on this, Jack saw Nathan drive past us and go through the lake I wouldn't drive through.
Debbie texted me Nathan's number. I reached him, told him where we were, and he backtracked, found us, and Jack leaped out of the Versa and joined Nathan.
(They went to the rock climbing facility and discovered it had been closed because of the local flooding.)
I cut back through the parking lot I'd used earlier to bypass one pond and made my way back to Rt. 303 only to face the blocked off flooded area again.
I turned left on a street and about three blocks down faced the largest collection of water on the street I'd seen yet. I made a U-turn, was going to make a turn to the north and drive parallel to Rt. 303, but the street was a one-way going south. I turned around again, hoping to find another route and I saw a car disregard the one-way street prohibition and turn north on that street so I turned around again and I, too, went the wrong way on this street.
Aha!
That was the ticket. I navigated my way back to Rt 303 and knew that another blocked area was to the north, but, before I reached the spot on 303 where the river ran through it, I saw the exit off of Rt 303 to get onto the Palisades Parkway -- where I had driven yesterday on our nap drive with Ellie.
Alleluia!
I exited Rt 303, got on the Palisades Parkway, and from that point forward it was an easy and uneventful drive back to the Langford house in Valley Cottage.
I uttered a brief prayer of gratitude that, thanks to Ellie needing to get out of the house to nap, I had a bit of knowledge about travel routes I wouldn't have had otherwise, and, as they say, it saved my bacon!
3. I had sent Debbie a melodrama free text flatly stating that I wasn't sure how I was going to make it back to the house. She called me, while I was inching my way up Rt 303. At this moment, I was fairly confident I'd figure something out -- and I did -- so Debbie asked if, on my way home, I could stop at Jose's Liquor Store and purchase a bottle of Maker's Mark.
No problem.
Because of the route I took to return to Valley Cottage, I didn't go right by the liquor store, but I did go right by the Langford house. I stopped in front of the house, called Debbie, and told her how I had succeeded to navigate the rental ark back to the house, despite the local flooding here and there.
Well, it turns out that Dee Maria's Pizza and Pasta is just two doors down from Jose's Liquor Store -- sandwiched between them is the home of the tongue taco, Cielito Lindo -- and when I phoned Debbie from in front of the house, we decided that she would phone in an order for a pizza and I would bring it back.
I returned with the pizza and cracked open one of the pints of Kolsch I brought back from Notch Brewing. The beer was perfect -- light, slightly sweet, refreshing, and easy to drink. It was, for me, the perfect ale to drink with pizza because I like sweet drinks, like soda, with pizza and this beer was just right.
The pizza, too, was just right. Yes, I admit, I like pizza crust on the crunchier, crispy side, but it's not mandatory for my enjoyment. Debbie ordered a half sausage and half pepperoni pizza and I loved it. I served myself a second pint of Kolsch, enjoyed my pizza slices, and felt very relaxed. It was as if the demands of navigating my way from the top of New Jersey back to Valley Cottage had never happened.
No comments:
Post a Comment