A Resilient Effort: The Ounce that Makes the Difference

Before the keys, the paperwork.

“Oh, and here’s the Carfax report. I don’t know if you were told, but there had been an accident,” the salesman reported.

I know for a fact that he hadn’t been told.

Leaning forward, I spied the small print and was shocked.

“The price of a couple of lights,” the salesman joked.

“More like the price of a couple of doors,” I said.

Key in hand, we headed to the lot. Having been told it was spotless, I was shocked to see all the spots.

While showing me how to use the controls, I saw the previous owner’s call history. I now knew the name of his doctor. Isn’t wiping personal information one of the hundred-and-whatever-point inspections this guy bragged about?

I guess not, but I mentally remind myself to wipe my information after every chauffeur session.

Driving it home, I decided I don’t like this automatic steering stuff, as I felt it pull three times. I assumed it didn’t like how I merged, and wanted me closer to the other line. Whatever robot, I decided. You stay in your lane and I’ll stay in mine.

When I got it home, I left it for the co-owners to take for their first spin. They hadn’t driven it yet, trusting the certified pre-owned guarantee and hundred-whatever-point inspection.

Instead, he was back asking me if I’d noticed it pulling.

It turned out the brake caliper was seized, so badly that no one wanted to risk driving it back for repair.

In resolution, a part was sent out for my partner to do the brake job. “I thought it was supposed to ensure you didn’t have to do any work? That didn’t even last 24 hours.”

A Buyer’s Remorse

Worse, they sent the wrong part, so there’s all that extra work, too.

When your customer is elderly, they likely wear reading glasses; if they aren’t wearing them, that kind of joke should be classified as misleading and illegal.

It did mislead. Alone with my partner, I shared my incredulity at the late reveal to ask what the legal requirement was. “More than seven thousand dollars!”

He said, “I thought it was $700.”

Careful inspection showed that the crash damaged the driver’s door because it didn’t line up correctly, was missing the right stickers, and had a slightly different shine.

I’ll never stop seeing that, every time I walk up to the door to open it for myself.

When I compared my old key fob to this new one, I noted the lack of a door opener. I had to pull out the manual to confirm that it wants to fire me as a driver, but it won’t open a single door. Robot, I’d rather you be the butler than the chauffeur—that’s my job, so stick to your lane.

The lack of an automatic lift-gate was a post-purchase surprise to us all.

On the way to pick up the vehicle, the co-owners discussed whether they’d get a free present with the purchase. We got a hat when we bought a chainsaw, a shirt when I bought a tool, and a glass with a bottle of booze. For a car, we got a pen for free. It’s not nothing. It’s just a kick in the teeth when you’ve been buying from them for fifty years.

Besides driving The Chariot home, I was also there to meet the salesperson, as I am interested in buying a Chevy Colorado in the spring. After this experience, it won’t be based on trust.

Exposing the Need for Change

Someone else pulled a fast one on my fairy godfather. He’ll never say something, but silence isn’t my virtue.

I believe that his cancer is a result of continuing to stay silent when treated like this. I don’t swallow my anger or ignore it. Instead, I try to take the information and the message while containing and directing the abundant energy that rushes in with it with control and power.

With this situation at his hunting camp, I offered to buy out all the beds to keep the undesirables out. In my role as his protector, his angel that cures his cancer, would an email be too much? I feel it’s the least of what’s called for here.

With those three realities – the accident, the lack of an actual inspection, and having to open the rear hatch caked in salt, snow, and dirt all winter – I’d be sending this puppy back per the 30-day policy. I don’t think a single point was inspected. However, I was raised never to return the steak – they spit on it. With a car, I don’t know how they’d get you back, but I’m sure there are many ways.

My fairy godfather would never do such a thing – return something or retaliate. He’s the nicest man you’ll ever meet; he doesn’t come by his title lightly.

I hope he never finds out that I never would have put up with this kind of treatment. Everyone knows that I don’t hold the bar all that high. I work for free, with a smile, and with zero expectation of tables ever turning.

I only lend money as if they will never pay me back, give my time as if they will never help me back, and I never forget who people prove themselves to be.

Having Nightmares of Truth

In the office with the used car salesman, I learned that the truth behind my assumptions about the motivations behind the purchase of The Chariot wasn’t all four-wheel drive and the Goldilocks height of it—higher than my car but lower than their truck.

It’s a small world, and someone I knew popped their head in during the paperwork process. I explained that my car was too low for a comfortable exit and was old.

“Yeah, I heard, it’s full of rattles and bangs.” I was immediately ashamed of what I’d previously thought of as more-than-fine and struck by a bolt of negative emotion coming out of nowhere, and feeling completely exposed.

The tarot lady was correct – I had a nine of swords coming. The nine of swords represents nightmares, waking up in the middle of the night. There are nine swords on the wall within grasp, like you know you need to slay something, or nine of them.

Waking up in the middle of the night, I realized I’d needed a new muffler for months, but it wasn’t being taken care of. The deal was that he takes care of the vehicles. So where was the care? Someone said I had more patience than a dead man, and I wondered what he thought I was waiting for.

In exchange for our relationship, which I’d always referred to as a partnership, I do the cooking, which I’d never do on my own, and in fact, I usually don’t eat. I bring the coffee, I do the shopping, yet my car has rusted to death in the hands of a career body guy.

What the shoemaker is that?

I’d written about the shoemaker in Resilience Now, and how what you do for work you don’t do for yourself or your loved ones, and that sometimes noticing that deficit will help you change your attitude before you lose the relationship or let people down.

I need a new muffler and also someone to support and hold up their end of the relationship bargain. I thought I was doing fine. It turns out I was holding my bar embarrassingly low while demanding more for everyone else.

Noticing the deficit, I’ve changed my attitude. Why did I outsource without monitoring the partnership?

“Have I ever gotten an oil change?” I blurted out, bleary without sleep, seeing rust every time I closed my eyes.

Rust that accelerated when I moved in. I park under the pine trees. Pine needles fall and accumulate in the drainage ports. When cold weather arrives, that moisture freezes. By the wonderfully weird nature of water, it is densest at 4 degrees Celsius. That increase in density goes boom. Just like that, craters exist where there was once steel.

Damn pine needles. If it were my land, I’d build a roof to protect my asset and keep out the needles.

Until then, I’d do a damn good job of telling everyone to do a damn good job of fall cleaning and point out exactly where.

But lessons are learned from failure.

Like getting my hair cut. I watched her sweep most of my hair over my shoulders, then chop. I joked about needing a haircut, and then decided I’d better get them all cut.

She asked, “Oh, did you want me to trim your layers?” she asked.

No, no thank you, not after that display.

The Littlest of Efforts

She didn’t want to wreck my curls, she said, explaining why she didn’t bother to wet down my hair or comb it out. Resilient curls! Water brings them back. I’m lucky to have hair to cut.

Next time, I won’t go back to the salon where I’ve always gone. Instead, I found someone who books over an hour to spend with you and says she specializes in “long layers.” Well, that’s what I used to have before the grand chop.

I can’t stand having to look at myself in the mirror. That’s why I don’t get my hair cut but once a year—right before hunting season, when I might have my photo taken.

If I knew of a salon where they don’t make you look, I’d be tempted to go there and remain in my comfort zone. It’s like voting Liberal and then never noting whether Carney is fulfilling his campaign promises. You simply have to look in the mirror, even if it’s uncomfortable.

It’s clear what I need to do—get comfortable with taking a long, hard look in the mirror instead of so lazily turning my gaze in the other direction – towards someone else and their welfare when it’s been proven that the investment doesn’t provide very good returns.

Breadcrumbs, the tarot lady said, you’ve been settling for breadcrumbs, and this person is here to show you. Huhn, and I thought I was teaching that lesson to them. Turns out, that lesson is mutual. I’ll show you where you deserve better, and you show me.

Yes, thanks, fairy godfather, message received. I hope mine comes through for you just as loud and clear, if you never hear a word about it.

Maybe you’ll get an apology (or nine) without ever hearing the words.

Capable of Delivering Delight

Driving The Chariot on the first real day on the job as Chauffeur, we headed north.

According to Facebook, “We missed seeing a moose,” my charge informed me.

On the way back, I saw something on the side of the highway.

“Moose!” my charge informed me.

I think she said so because I’d failed to get off the gas. In truth, I wanted to be much closer before I did. He was a sight to behold, trotting across the highway in the afternoon sun. His black coat rippled with gloss, his antlers softly covered and a good size, his beard swaying, full and thick.

I’d counted four or five points and waited to see if the oncoming cars across the median were slowing, or if I needed to start honking. They slowed, and we carried on.

Missed seeing a moose? I don’t think so, Facebook.

I do not like to disappoint my precious cargo, but aim to do my best in every job, although no one knew how I measured or defined that, and at times, it was obscure at best to them. It’s impressive what prayers are answered when you ask them clearly, calmly, and nicely, and then do your part to make it easy for them to be answered.

As a customer, why is it so hard to get what we want or good service? After decades of teaching the importance of this principle to everyone from front-line staff to top executives, people nodded and then went back to what they were doing before.

If they could, they would follow their own opinion. Usually, they do whatever pleases the one who gives the performance review, decides the rewards, and is capable of playing favorites.

While Waiting for Truth

The games are always clear, and the players are distinct in their tactics if similar in their strategy. You might think you know the player, only to realize the game being played, and just like that, the kaleidoscope turns, and you see the rest of the picture. Everything falls into place.

Everyone is out to “win.” Desperate people do desperate things, and just because someone makes a lot of money doesn’t mean they aren’t desperate.

Money isn’t the only motivator, or the most important one. What you need to remember is that your assumptions are placeholders for the truth. Use them when you need to, but be prepared to replace them with something more permanent as soon as you can.

Be careful what you build on an assumption, because it might all come crashing down. Coasting on your knee-jerk reactions to fill in the blank when an “I don’t know” is more appropriate can cost you dearly.

When you don’t know something and desire to know it, asking someone for the answer might only lead you astray.

You don’t ask someone if they can be trusted; you test them. You don’t ask them to describe their personality, to wait to see what they talk about, and gravitate toward.

Show me, don’t tell me, for many people simply can’t, as they don’t know the answers themselves. Don’t put them on the spot; let patience guide you and your gut tell you the truth. Anything less is laziness.

That way, when the truth comes up, it won’t upset your apple cart, and you won’t have to chase after all your scattered and damaged fruit.

It took me seconds to say, “Please, Spirit, we’d like to see a moose on this trip.” Seconds? Nanoseconds.

Have you tried making such efforts in your life? It’s not difficult to set aside time to pray, but you are doing it anyway while you narrate your life in your head and tell yourself things.

It’s not only for yourself.

I told someone that my “partner” had told me that I wasn’t allowed to celebrate the hunt until after all the tags were filled, and that I’d taken on that challenge while knowing he hadn’t told anyone else that rule. It lasted until those others blew my plan to smithereens.

Shot themselves with a barrel of their own shit, them rednecks like to say. For they profess they want all the meat, but don’t want to be wet, cold, sore, bored, sweaty, hot, or bothered.

It’s much easier to share a new rule than to wait until things get so dire that severe intervention is the only solution. Sharing that rule with everyone creates equality and balance, and only takes an ounce of the effort you think it will. Just say, “Hey, next time…”

Like this, “Hey, next time, I want proof of that inspection and detailing. Do you have a video?”

Like this, “Hey, next time, I’m getting a wash job first. Dry curl cut? Not on this head.”

Like this, “Hey, next time, get your own venison.”

Wave a flag. Use your words to do it. If you need help, ask for it, and know that someone is always listening.

For if there’s ever a next time, you can predict it. If you can predict it, you can prevent it.

Never Too Late

My charge had said, “We didn’t get a picture!”

When you see the footprints, place a game camera.

Days after the fact, a series of stunning photos arrived. We didn’t get “a” picture; we got several, of several. Here’s one of my favorites.