Saturday, June 30, 2012
My last post, #50, described a miserable day I was having and how, in particular, my power scooter had developed a mysterious ailment that caused it to start up fine, but stop scooting when it reached the furthest point from my home; and how I had to push it (with my dog, Chico, along for the ride) back home again. I finished that section of the blog by optimistically stating I was awaiting a return phone call that very afternoon from the scooter repairman. That phone contact was actually made several days later when we finally spoke to the technician and was asked to bring the scooter into the shop for service - which isn’t an unreasonable request until you realize the scooter needed to be disassembled into “five manageable sections” the heaviest being 35 lbs. That’s all well and good if you’re a guy who can stand un-aided, or a woman who’s taller than 5 feet, neither of which describes Fran or me. Finally, with the help of Ray, my ever- obliging neighbor, we got the scooter in our Hyundai Tucson for the short trip to the shop. Imagine my embarrassment when a mature woman employee,, not much bigger than Fran, took the scooter out of the car singlehanded and brought it in the shop; where it was destined to stay for about a month until what turned out to be a somewhat unique problem was diagnosed and the proper replacement part was obtained. Needless-to-say, I felt like a prisoner for that month, pretty much housebound for the entire time. The scooter is back now and Chico is once again on his twice–daily walks, whether he wants to or not. In fact, that’s what we are about to do in a few minutes. Now,where is that darned dog?