Vikings melt rusted TR7 losing iPhone Finding red Car
“…. great photos and videos, Dan. Melika will love these.”
That seemed innocent enough until we got home. I was parking the car when:
“Where is my iPhone? I left it in the stroller! Did you remember to get it before you collapsed the stroller and put it in the trunk?” Nazy was frantic. (And somewhat accusative.)
“I never saw it.” I replied. “Why didn’t you think of these questions while we were getting into the car - with the stroller instead of when we are getting out of car - without the stroller?” I thought.
“You didn’t ‘think’ that, Dan. You said it.” Nazy interrupts.
“I think I made a ..”
“You didn’t think, Dan - and that means that you are thoughtless.”
Accompanied by background dismay (“How could you not see my phone?&rdquo
we searched the car and the trunk. I called Nazy’s iPhone and got voicemail. Nazy drove back to the parking lot to retrace her steps. Naturally, I was fully supportive of this approach. “Don’t worry, you’ll find it.” (“Fat Chance,” I though.)The iPhone was old and ready for retirement. But the photos, especially the new, unbacked-up photos, were hugely important. Unfortunately, Nazy’s attempt to find the device was unsuccessful. Later, when Melika came to get the baby, she suggested that we use the ‘Find my iPhone’ App. [Inconveniently, I had forgotten that I had the App.] We quickly discovered that Nazy’s iPhone was walking through downtown Santa Barbara. We jumped in the car and drove to a nearby parking lot.
Brandishing the App, I began to follow the missing iPhone. Nazy kept mumbling about details.
“What are we going to do when we get ‘close’ to the phone? Should I find a policeman?”
“Nazy,” I explained. “When we get ‘close’, I will call your mobile. You chose William Tell Overture as ‘my’ ringtone. Everyone will hear your phone.”. “I wonder if this will work,” I thought.
The App placed the phone in the vicinity of Joe’s Cafe - next to the Scientology book store. A passerby pointed to a pay phone.
“Did you know you can call Ron Hubbard on that phone?”
“L. Ron Hubbard is dead.”
“But he started Scientology.”
“I’ll convert if you can get him on that phone. And, by the way, have you heard the William Tell Overture lately?”
The iPhone wasn’t in the (i)phone(less) booth. So Nazy asked the manager of Joe’s Cafe to make a general announcement. He demurred. She offered to subcontract a TSA checkpoint at the exit door. The manager said ‘No’. Then Nazy walked through the cafe, occasionally asking ‘suspicious characters’ about the phone. I considered shooting apples off people’s heads. “This is hopeless,” I thought.
Dismayed and distressed, I remotely ‘locked’ Nazy’s phone - configuring it to display a “This iPhone has been lost, please call 805-708-8027” message. Heading home, we stopped to see Melika, Tom and the baby. As soon as Nazy left the car, my phone began to play Nazy’s ringtone (“When the Saints go Marching in”) Someone had found the phone, taken it to dinner at Joe’s, seen my plea, called to reassure me and left the phone at lost/found in the parking lot.
“I knew we’d find it.” I claimed as we were driving home.
Aside: The grand(est)son can now (almost) sit up by himself.
Much later that evening, still basking in glory from the successful retrieval and while Nazy was getting ready for bed, for some reason I decided to get some ice. But..
“Disaster, Nazy! A few chips of ice are floating in a tray of cool water. The freezer is dead.”
Nazy reacted calmly. “What! We have 9 containers of breast milk in the freezer. We need those!” Nazy was thinking: “Now I understand why I heard the refrigerator alarm this morning.&rdquo
Although it was midnight, we grabbed the precious containers of semi-frozen milk and drove to Melika’s. I was pulling into their driveway when…
“We should have brought everything from the freezer, Dan.” Nazy said. Preceptively.
“I should have thought of that my dear.” I replied. “Why didn’t you think of that?” I thought - carefully and extremely quietly.
When we moved to Santa Barbara, we were excited about our new refrigerator. A Viking, it was larger than the entire kitchen in our Zurich apartment. However:
“This Viking is a contemporary of Eric the Dead,” I complained as we drove home.
“You mean Eric the Red,” Nazy replied. “He was a famous Viking explorer”.
“I mean Eric the Dead. He died more than a 1000 years ago. This refrigerator is just as dead. The technology is from the Middle Ages. Eric, or his son, Lief Eriksson, better known as Lief, the Unlucky, built this thing to thaw the ice out of Greenland. It’s a medieval design.”
“It’s not mid-evil, Dan,” Nazy replied. “It’s fully evil. it’s flooded the house twice.”
The refrigerator’s alarm system began beeping again when we got home. Aware (now) of the problem, I reset the alarm. As soon as the refrigerator was sure that I was asleep, it reset my reset and began to beep. I came downstairs and turned off the alarm. Forcefully. Then I went back to bed. The refrigerator gave me time to fall asleep and then it began to BEEP. I grabbed a hammer, shouted “Bleep” and went downstairs wondering if a chainsaw would be required.
A repairman arrived the following day. He replaced one of the computers that manage the Viking’s cooling systems. While the repairs were underway, Nazy cooked everything that might have spoiled. Unfortunately, it wasn’t possible to schedule our holiday party on such short notice and she cooked a lot of veggies. (A lot!) We will be eating green for weeks.
We also traded cars this week. Frankly, although we loved our car, we had been driving the same model (and same color) car for almost 12 years. We wanted something different.
“Red, Dan!” Nazy exclaimed. “We’ve never had a red car.”
“Not so!” I corrected. “Remember the TR7?”
Flashback, Memphis
Nazy and I were driving to an elegant dinner party in my newly acquired TR7 - which I had had to jump start. It was a typical Memphis summer: 90℉, 90% Humidity. I was utilizing the air conditioning unaware that freon was leaking onto the (black) carpet in front of the passenger seat. When the freon hit the carpet, it liquified the carpet dye. Because someone invented osmosis, dye began to ooze up the base of Nazy’s white shoes and the skirt of her long, elegant and expen$ive white dress. We skipped the party and took a taxi home. (As Nazy diplomatically put it: “I will never sit in that car again!&rdquo
When I went back to get the car, it wouldn’t start. As owner of a TR7 I, of course, had a set of jumper cables. We sold the car (and the jumper cables) at a loss six months after we got it. I later discovered that if the neat headlights were retracted while the high beams were on, the high beams stayed on- even after the car (and lights) were turned off. The battery drained.
End Flashback
“This car,” Nazy said at the dealership, “Is not the same ‘red’ as your stupid TR7.”
“I’m not sure,” I replied. I remembered that Nazy had complained about the red Christmas candles I bought: “Those are the color of tomatoes, Dan, not the color of Christmas.”
The day before we picked up the car, Nazy noted that we still had ‘miles on the lease’ and ‘gas in the car’. So..
“Shouldn’t we drive somewhere to use up the miles and gas?”
“We have 228 miles left, Nazy. I don’t..”
“Can we get a credit?”
“No, but..”
“That’s not fair. If we went over the limit, we’d have to pay.”
“If we were 228 miles over, at worst we’d have to pay $40. It’s not a big deal.”
“What about the gas?
“Do you want me to leave the car running overnight?”
The “evil’ on-looker is Nazy’s necklace holder.
For last week’s letter click here