Scott's from the old school. Women do not propel their own wheelchairs and men do not go into yardage stores.
Scott was born and raised in Georgia. He still has the remnants of a Southern drawl and even though he has lived in the the Land of Glitz for over 30 years, he is still a 'good ole boy' at heart. He just started wearing shorts this summer.
He dropped by for a visit the other day.
John's from the new school. Let a woman propel anything she wants. And hey, if a man wants to go to a yardage store, cool.
John was born and raised in Massachusetts. He has only lived in the Land of Glitz for three years. He is still a hippie at heart and he hasn't worn anything but shorts since he got off the airplane in April of 2001.
I was born and raised in Southern California. I have never been to either Georgia or Massachusetts, but fate, or a God with a great sense of humor, has put these two men in my life. I am thoroughly entertwined and entertained with these two mis-placed men. You wouldn't think that these two men had much to talk about; they are so very different. But there is a common denominator that keeps these two so worked up that all I can do is sit back and laugh. "The Weather"
This is Southern California. We don't have weather. We have sunshine.
Every morning John turns the television on to The Weather Channel. I haven't the faintest idea what he is looking for. Every morning the television tells him the same thing. Sunshine! He claims that it's just a lifetime habit that he is seriously working to get under control, but the other day I hit the favorites button on the remote and guess what channel popped onto the screen, The Weather Channel. The poor man! He's addicted to the weather and there is no weather here. But he has Scott to talk to.
Scott never looks at the Weather Channel. He just assumes that the weather will do as is expected and shine the sun on his day. His problem is when something unexpected happens and we actually have weather. Like rain. OMG rain!
Scott called me one morning and asked what I was going to do that day. I told him the children and I were antsy so we were going to get in the car and go exploring. He thought that sounded like fun and decided to join us. We always had fun with Scott so everyone was pleased. We climbed in the car and off we went in search of an adventure. We found some too. We were having a great time when all of a sudden three rain drops fell on the car windshield. "It's starting to rain!" Scott said with urgency in his voice. The kids and I just giggled. I had convinced them that rain was wonderful. We get so little of it that actually having rain fall on our windshield was a unique treasure to behold. "Isn't this great," I happily cried. Scott didn't buy that crap at all!!!
"We gotta go home! It's gonna rain!" Scott admonished.
No sooner were the words out of his mouth when the heavens opened up and we were given the gift of rain!, actual rain!, hard falling, puddle forming rain! Scotts panic was palpable. "Turn the car around. We've got to go home. It's raining!" he kept chanting. I smiled and kept driving.
The further I drove away from home the more panic stricken Scott became. I love the man, but I love rain too. And just for that moment the rain was winning the 'who do you love the most' battle. Besides there were the kids. They kept telling Scott how much they loved the rain and how they thought it was so great that the rain was falling on our adventure. The kids were prodding me to keep going. So I did. Scott was getting so distressed I was afraid that I was going to have to call 911. What was I going to say to them "Well, I think he had a rain stress attack?"
Finally, I couldn't stand his panic any longer so I pulled the car over toa parking lot and killed the engine. Everyone in the car, even Scott, got deadly quiet. The more we sat in the car the harder the rain fell. Still no one said a word. Soooooooooooooo I rolled down the window, opened the door and got out. "What are you doing, Penny?" came from the kids. "What the hell do you think you're doing? It's raining!" came from the incredulous Scott.
"I'm going to dance in the rain,. I'm going to let the rain fall on my head until I'm soaking wet," I said. And I did. The kids started yelling, "Me too, me too." They opened their doors and got out. The three of us had a wonderful wet water dance. We laughed and yelled and had a great time. Scott sat in the car and watched us as if we were a group of strange loonies that had kidnapped him and were now tormenting him. I kept begging him to join us. "Come on Scott. Only sugar melts in the rain. Come on join us. It's fun." He didn't.
When we got back in the car it was obvious that I had teased Scott to the point of breaking. I turned the car around. Scott didn't say a word on the drive home, but maybe he didn't get a chance. The kids and I were so happy we may have filled the car with so many words he may not have been able to get any of his words heard.
When I pulled into the driveway the rain, for some unknown reason, decided to stop. The sun peaked out of a cloud and smiled down at Scott, but Scott didn't smile back. He got in his car and went home.
Later he called me and apologized for being an ass. Scott is good about that sort of thing, but then again he was home and he was dry.
Yesterday he told this story to John. John listened and I could see that he almost understood the panic until Scott said, "I was afraid that I was going to die, die, do you hear me, die! And you know what John, all she did was laugh, her big guffaw of a laugh. Just like she's doing right now."
Then I could see by John's pained expression that he fully understood. He hears that laugh every time he turns on The Weather Channel.
P.S. Another time I'll tell you the story of Scott, Big Bear, and the snow. "It was a blizzard John, a blizzard. I had 4 inches of snow on my head and all she did was laugh. Thank goodness that old man came up to help me or I would have turned into a snowman, dead in a blizzard, John!!!!!"