Awhile back, I received a call from the minister wondering if I could take someone to Lansing in the morning on my way to work.

He went on to explain that this guy’s car broke down at the Lowell exit as he was returning to Detroit. If I could give him a ride to the bus station in East Lansing, he had enough money to buy a ticket home. He would come back for his car on the weekend.

I told him that it would be fine but that the person needed to be at the church at 6:45 AM. The pastor said that person needing the ride was staying with a friend of his near the church.

I had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing. The story didn’t seem right. A bus ticket from Grand Rapids to Detroit couldn’t be that much more expensive than one from East Lansing. And, if he didn’t have enough money, couldn’t he borrow it from his friend? Plus, I didn’t know if I would be dealing with a big guy with an attitude or some young kid.

At 6:45 AM, I arrived at the church looking for my pickup. No one was in site. I drove around the church but still didn’t see anyone. I looked up and down the street. Not a soul. Declaring him a no show, I hit the road.

Two days later when the local paper arrived, the front story was about a robbery suspect who had fled from the Lowell police. And as you have probably guessed, he was the guy that I was supposed to take to East Lansing.

It seems that the would be rider had taken a fancy to some of the electronics at his friends house and decided to take them with him when he left. Unfortunately, he spent too much time stealing the stuff and thus missed his ride to East Lansing.

He was still at the church when the police arrived. Upon seeing the police, he fled the scene leave his booty behind. He alluded the Lowell police but given the fact that his friend knew who he was, it wouldn’t be too hard to find him.

Well, like I said, I thought that there was something fishy about his story and I could have driven the getaway car.

One warm summer morning, I was riding my little 350 twin motorcycle to work at the college. When I approached the East Beltline headed west, my motorcycle died.

Now the East Beltline is a divided north/south highway with a large grassy median. It is the type of road that doesn’t allow any left turns at any intersections. If you want to go south, you have to go north and make a turn across the median. If you want to go north, you have to go south and make a turn across the median. Etc.

Well anyway, it was 6:45 AM, my motorcycle had died and I needed to go 2 miles south to the campus. So I walked out into the median and stood on the edge of the south bound lane hoping to get a ride with someone from the campus. Suddenly, a car pulls up next to me and the driver asks me if I needed a ride. I said “yes” and proceeded to get into the car.

The car was an older blue station wagon and the driver was an average built woman in her late 50s and from the wrinkles on her face I would say that she was a heavy smoker. As soon as I closed the door, I could smell alcohol. Oh good. She’s drunk too.

She said that she would take me any place that I wanted if I would tell her how to get to Grand Rapids. Since she was practically in Grand Rapids anyway, I was a little confused by her request.

In spite of the fact that the speed limit on the East Beltline was 50 mph, we were only going about 10 mph which was fine with me because the woman was drunk.

She said that she had just taken her son to work. When I asked where he worked, she said that he worked for the Navy. Since I had no idea where that would have been, I dropped the subject.

She asked me if I had a cigarette and I said that I didn’t smoke. Then she said that I seemed like a nice young man and proceed to put her hand on my knee. She told me that she was a widow. I told her that I was sorry. She said that her husband was murdered. I told her that I was REALLY sorry.

She asked me again if I had a cigarette and I said that I didn’t smoke. Then she said that I seemed like a nice young man and proceed to put her hand a little higher up on my leg.

I thought to my self that as slow as we were going, I could always put on my helmet and jump! But then I told my self that we only a mile to go

She asked me a third time if I had a cigarette and when I said that I didn’t smoke she fumbled through her purse. Moments later, she produced a pack of cigarettes and offered me one. When I politely declined she lite one up for herself. Then she told me that I seemed like a nice young man and proceeded to put her hand even higher up on my thigh.

We’re almost there, the both of us. I was almost to the campus and she was almost to, well, there. Since I could now see the campus, I was pretty sure that my there would get there before her there got there.

I told her to take a right at the intersection and to stop the car as that is where I needed to be. While that wasn’t entirely true, I was close enough to the campus that I could walk that remaining few yards.

She turned the corner and stopped the car. I graciously thanked her for the ride and started to reach for the door. She made the peace sign and said “peace”. Besides the fact that it was a good 20 years behind the times, I said “Peace” Then she stuck our her hand for me to shake and I did. Once she had a hold of my hand, she pulled me towards her, grabbed me with her other hand and gave me a kiss on my cheek.

At that point in time, I was definitely getting out of the car. I grabbed my helmet, pulled that handle on the door and got out of the car as quickly as I could. She said “Wait. How do I get to Grand Rapids?” Without getting near the car, I pointed straight down the road. Since the biggest crimes in East Grand Rapids are speeding and adultery, I thought the East Grand Rapids Police might enjoy a drunk driver for a change

We have a new security guard sitting in the lobby of my building. Her name is Kathleen. I know this not only from her ID badge but also because she came up to me and introduced herself.

Kathleen is in her late 30s or early 40s, attractive, very friendly and married. I like the fact that she is married as it means that she isn’t looking for a husband. She also likes to talk.

Every time I walk out into the lobby, she strikes up a conversation just like we are best friends. And this is fine except for the fact that the only time that I am in the lobby is when I am headed to the restroom so I usually don’t talk for very long. Once, she got so involved in the conversation that she almost followed me into the restroom.

Now, while the front door of our office leads into the lobby, the back door of the office goes into the hallway where the restrooms are located. When I want to avoid having to chat with Kathleen, I use the back door. Usually when I use the back door, she doesn’t see me as her back is towards me. But, every now and then, she sees me and comes running up to me to say hello.

I don’t mind talking to her when I have time, but I am extremely busy right now and really can’t take time to talk every time that I need to use the restroom.

Last winter, during the midst of a raging snow storm, a man came running into our building claiming that he had been shot. He was barefoot and wearing only shorts and a tee shirt, so he seemed to be just a little strange.

When the police arrived, he told them that he was shot by aliens. But when they examined him, they could not find any wounds. He told them that the aliens used invisible bullets. Upon further questioning it was discovered that he was from the halfway house across the street and that he needed to take his medication.  Of course, it is hard to tell the difference between the half way people and regular state workers.

I stopped at one of the local Quality Dairy’s to get some skim milk. Of course, they were out of skim milk but I could get a 48 oz Bud Lite if I wanted. I ended up buy 2% as that was all that they had.

As I am leaving the store I noticed a no parking sign on the side of the building. Right below it was a handicap parking sign.

This got me thinking. While stores are required to provide handicap parking spaces, I guess it doesn’t mean that handicap people are allowed to park there. Thus the handicap parking space with the no parking sign. What will they think of next, left turn lanes with no left turn signs? Go figure.

State government and the city of Lansing have a love/hate relationship. While the city loves the money that the state gives to them through taxes and utility services, they hate the fact that most of downtown Lansing is occupied by the state. So, to make the city happy, the state buys water, electric and steam from the city for the downtown campus. And recently, they added chilled water.

Now, the state, here in Lansing, had their own chiller plant which they used for cooling their buildings in the summer time. However, the city decided that they wanted to get into the chilled water business so they came to the state and cut a deal for chilled water. New pipes were run into the buildings and in a few months they were ready to provide the state with chilled water.

It was decided that the best time to switch from state chilled water to city chilled water was on a Saturday. Picking a Saturday would give them 2 whole days to get the new system up an running.

Everything was going just fine during the change over until they missed one minor engineering detail. The plan called for providing the state with chilled water at 10 PSI.  They misread the design and instead provided the state with chilled water at 100 PSI.

Well, needless to say, the system didn’t hold up to the increase in pressure. Up in the penthouse of the building, the pressure valve opened and discharged thousands of gallons of water into penthouse. And, while the penthouse had floor drains, they were not adequate to keep up with the demand that a 24 inch pipe placed on them.

Not only did the water leak under the door and down the stairs, it soon started leaking through every crack and hole in the floor. By the time the city realized that something was wrong, several floors were trashed. Needless to say, it made a big mess.

Did the state save any money on this move? I doubt it.

Lowell used to be known as the haven for pickup trucks and mud buggies. But lately, I have been seeing some cars that are not only unusual to Lowell, but unusual to just about most places. This weekend, I saw a Ford GT parked on main street.

Ford originally built the GT in 1966 and entered it in the Le Mans 24 hour endurance race. The GT won. In celebration, Ford sent the GT on a tour of dealerships across the US. That car came to Lake Odessa and I actually got to ride in it. Of course, the ride wasn’t very long, but it was, none the less, a ride in a Ford GT.

In 2005, Ford began a limited production of the GT. Though it is not the original 1966 design, it is pretty close. Its 550 horse powered engine give it 0-60 in 3.3 seconds with a top end of 205 mph.  I wonder if it is the same engine that is used in the Shelby Cobra Mustang?

If you can find a Ford GT, the starting list price is about $150,000.

My previous and present bosses don’t understand thinking. I am often invited to meetings that are focused on solving a particular problem. And, after of couple of hours discussing the problem, I will most likely come up with the solution. At which point, my boss gets upset with me because I waited two hours before giving them the solution. I then get accused of wasting everyones time so that I can make them look stupid. Go figure.

She doesn’t understand that I don’t know all of the answers to all of the problems. Nor do I have them written down in my office. Rather, the answers to the problems are achieved by thinking through the possibilities and arriving at a logical conclusion. Having a degree in Philosophy taught me to think.

I always assumed that everyone can think. But, having worked here at the state, I have learned that this is not the case. I appear to be the exception.

One summer, before I started college, I got a job working in the cafeteria at Fisher body in Lansing. It proved to be a real eye opener.

Everyone that worked in the cafeteria performed various tasks depending on the time of day. And so, one of my tasks was working on the serving line at lunch time.

Now, working on the serving line was a challenge because the factory workers had an attitude and it wasn’t pleasant. They were always complaining about the food. It was either too hot, or too cold, or too salty, or too bland, the list goes on and on. In particular, they complained about the soup.

When you dished up the soup you had to do two things. First, you had to stir the pot in front of them. That insured that they were not getting just broth. The second thing that you had to do was ladle the soup into the bowl when they asked for it and not before. That insured that the soup was hot.

One day, I found myself serving up vegetable beef soup. And in keeping with the demands of the factory workers, I stirred the soup and ladled into the bowl when they asked for soup.

Everything was going as planned until this one particularly disagreeable worker asked for soup. I gave the soup a long and deep stirring as he looked on. But, just as I was about to ladle the soup into the bowl, I looked down at the soup. There in the middle of the ladle was a tampon, string and all. Horrified, I quickly slipped the ladle back into the soup and gave it one more stir. Pulling up on the ladle, I noted that it was now tampon free so I filled the bowl. Fortunately, the factory worker did not see the tampon in the ladle. He must have been distracted at the time.

Now, this was the lunch time rush so I didn’t have time to go fishing for a tampon. Thinking that the tampon was probably on the bottom of the pot, I made sure that I didn’t stir too vigorously. I also checked every ladle to make sure that the tampon didn’t make it into someone else’s bowl. Yum!