No Exaggerations

(This is an email I received last Thursday from Joe Nydahl, a friend of mine. I thought you, the reader, would enjoy it, though it might help to know Joe.)

Folks,

This is all true, no exaggerations.

1) Tuesday night. My ride for our team for the Hood to Coast falls through. Not a big deal.

2) Tuesday night. Somebody tried to steal our clay firepit furnace thing off our porch. I loved this thing. The bucketheads dragged it across my porch, then they dropped it, because it was heavy. It smashed all over the steps. I used to drink beer and read books next to this thing.

3) Wednesday morning. Jenn (Joe’s wife) calls and she has found a homeless guy with a child huddled under blankets in his shopping cart. Jenn calls the police, but they can’t find him. Somewhere there is a kid in a shopping cart.

4) Wednesday afternoon. We have 16 overdrafts. Our bank just converted from Visa to Mastercard and sent out new cards. I started using my card. It was the card to the old bank account that I haven’t used in years. Had no idea. 16 overdrafts.

5) Wednesday Afternoon. Jenn calls, the train she is on to Vancouver, BC has just hit a car. Yep. Hit a car dead on.

6) Wednesday night. Dad calls. He and I are being sued for a unspecified amount of money in excess of $50,000. Plaintiff is requesting a trial jury. This is because of a minor car accident in August of 2004. Plaintiff waited two years to decide they could not work due to the fender bender. I don’t have any money, so I don’t really care, but they are going after Pops. That’s not right.

7) Thursday lunch. I pick up car from long term parking. $30 parking ticket on top of the hourly paid parking. I start laughing.

8) While driving into parking lot 10 minutes ago, a kid corners quickly and almost hits me. I’m smiling as I wait for it. Kid overcorrects turn and drags the side of his car along concrete column. His mom screams expletives. I’m so sorry kid, it should have been me. Still laughing.

So now it’s 2:17 on Thursday, guys. I can’t stop laughing. In the event that number nine results in my death or vegetative state, please don’t pay my parking ticket, I feel like letting this one ride for a while.