While it was interesting to write about Death Metal Cows and the minor crashing of bumpers, at the end of the day, my truck was still drivable. I got up super early Saturday morning with things to do, my truck loaded down with items to take to USA Rescue Team’s adopt event, and the day was set.

Except my headlights wouldn’t work. Now, I understand the busted-out light not shining but how did that affect the other light?

Ideas?

I dropped in on my insurance place Monday and they huddled. Yes, I could get a rental the next day, but I would have to take what I got on short notice. They called the other guy’s insurance, and the guy running point for them was dismayed, but told me to do what I had to do to get running again.

This is where the title of this piece comes in.

I called the Point Guy and asked him if he could help me get a rental truck and he said he had no pull with the local rental place, but he would try. I asked him if he would be interested in helping me find someplace that would repair my truck faster, and he quickly said yes. Legally, he cannot refer me to a repair shop, but he can guide me to someone who might be able to help.

I could have viewed this whole thing as a business deal and simply rode off with a rental for forty days.

But I put out a message on social media, it gets picked up and a few people say, yeah, I used that place, they were great.

Call the guy back. Let’s do it. He’s thrilled.

Go to pick up the truck I’m supposed to rent this morning from the car rental, and they don’t have the truck back. Okay, fine, what do you have? Minivan. Minivan? Minivan! So okay, let’s do it. It’s a nice minivan and they still have some paperwork to do with the person dropping it off.  The woman renting me the van is terribly sorry about all this, but I tell her it’s okay. We talk for a couple of minutes and one of the other employees there offers to drive me to drop off my truck and bring me back. In his personal car. In the meantime, the first truck that returns in mine.

The guy taking me to drop off my truck is young, and on the way back he tells me it’s rare anyone is nice to them when they don’t get what they want. I tell him I walked away from an accident at age 64. I feel good about the whole thing. He nods. He tells me about the Super Bowl halftime show, and why it matters.

I am driving a new minivan whose controls I have not yet mastered. But I didn’t treat anyone I dealt with transactional. I talked to them all, got to know them, and oddly, everyone responded well. I think people are hungry to be treated like human beings, and not some stranger doing something for a check.

I think this is the way I will live.

Take Care,

Mike