The best plans a man can make often go very wrong. I plan to leave on a short vacation trip tomorrow. This morning, when I returned from mass, I found myself troubleshooting a new problem. I always park my car in the garage, and today, when I pushed the button on my rearview mirror to have the door open by the time the front bumper reaches the door line, nothing happened. There I sat, pressing the button repeatedly all the time thinking of the definition of insanity, i.e. doing the same thing over and over with no success and expecting a different reaction. Except, I was pressing the button on different places thinking there might be a hot spot on the mirror switch. Then, to my surprise on my final push, the door began to rise. It raised about a foot and then slammed to the ground with a bang. That’s not good, I thought. Oh well, give up and tackle the next problem, like how to get into the house. It is my habit to use the garage as the entrance of choice. This morning I realized that is a bad habit because I don’t carry keys to the storm doors. I went to the front door, and found it locked. I went to the side door and luckily the storm door was unlocked, I’ll have to discuss that matter with Lovely, I thought. She fell down on her job to secure all doors before retiring, but today it was my gift. I entered the house and immediately proceeded to the garage to examine the door. I spotted the problem from twenty feet away. One of the two torsion springs that help raise the door is broken. It broke while lifting the door, so it slammed to the ground. Before that, it was overloading and shutting down with each button push.
The next problem is finding someone to replace the spring on a Sunday. Luckily, I remembered that the previous repair company had placed a tag with their number on the door. I called, and after hearing the line switch three times, a voice came on—a genuine, authentic, human voice. I am now waiting for a serviceman to call back with an arrival time. If I am lucky, I may get to leave on the trip tomorrow as planned.
Filed under: Biography, Travel | Tagged: Mackinac Island, Picured Rocks Natl Park |
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