I Should Stick to Bourne Movies

                I sat there watching the last few minutes of the film and suddenly realized there was quite a bit of noise behind me.  I thought at first it was some inconsiderate knothead slurping the last few drops of soda from his cup.  Then I realized the same sound was present a few seats to my right.  Then up to the left behind me.  It was sobbing.  People all over the theater were not just wiping a few tears from their eyes.  They were sobbing.

                This is exactly the kind of situation that a guy like me loves.  It is so easy to skewer people who cry out loud at a movie.  I remember a young lady crying at a drive-in movie presentation of Love Story many years ago.  I feined compassionate understanding, but in truth was quite clueless as to why anyone would allow themselves to be so affected by fiction.  But I must refrain from my natural propensity toward mockery.  You see, I shed a few tears toward the beginning of Les Misérbles.  Anne Hathaway’s presentation of I Dreamed a Dream just got to me.  It certainly wasn’t because her singing was so great, though partially because it wasn’t great, but really because her acting while singing was so convincing.  An interesting side note: All the songs were sung live on the set; no dubbing and lip-syncing.

                I thoroughly enjoyed the whole movie, though I missed a couple of minutes about 2/3 of the way into the story.  I have to stop drinking the large diet sodas when the movies are over two hours long.  I had not read the book or seen the play, though I was familiar with some of the better known songs.  I was impressed with the overriding theme of the redemption of Jean Valjean.  His conversion, precipitated by a loving, forgiving priest, changes his life immediately and continues to direct his conscience throughout the rest of his life.  What a great message.

                By the way, I was viewing this movie solo.  My wife had already seen it with some other women, and she was out of town tonight, so I decided to go by myself.  I have gone to movies by myself before, but have never felt as conspicuous as I did this evening.  I have no explanation for why this feeling came over me tonight, but I definitely felt a little out of place and wondered a few times what people think about a guy who watches Les Misérbles by himself.  Do they assume I’m single?  Had a fight with the wife?  Got a gun under my coat?  Is so weird I can’t get a date?  Gee, now I wonder if they saw me wiping a tear from my eye during Hathaway’s song. I never have these thoughts when I watching Bourne movies.

"You Don't Need God. You Need a Tow Truck"

                It was about 4:00 P.M., Friday, December 30^th when I pulled the truck up in front of the rental house in Sonoma.  Relatives from Colorado had driven out to be with my family for the New Year’s break.  The house was large, but we needed one more bedroom.  That is why I was pulling our 5^th wheel trailer behind the pick-up truck.  There was plenty of room to park the trailer on the asphalt, but I liked the idea of parking on the grassy area right next to the house, where we could feel more like a part of everything.  Doug, the owner, said it would be fine if I pulled the trailer up the gravel incline and parked it in my ideal spot.

                Thus began an unforgettable journey.  One of those events that becomes part of the extended family lore, like the time a bear stole the cooler from the campsite and Papa through a potato masher at him.  Family lore is never planned.  These events just happen.  Unexpectedly.  And though the details get tangled with each year that passes, the sights and sounds remain indelibly etched on frontal lobes for decades.

                I backed up the trailer, gunned the engine, twisted the wheel to begin the 90º turn to the left, and felt the truck wheels leave the asphalt as I started up the short incline.  Then it happened.  The wheels spun a little in the gravel.  I eased off the accelerator a little, and then slowly pressed down again.  The wheels spun.  The truck stopped advancing.  I knew immediately I was not going to get that trailer up that hill.  I had to turn my wheels to the left and slowly back down onto the asphalt, then proceed up to the original site in front of the house.  No problem.  Yes, problem.  I turned the wheels, and I backed up, but instead of turning, the truck began sliding straight down the hill.  If you know anything about backing up a trailer, you know this: If you want the trailer to go to the left, you must turn the truck to the right.  Since the trailer had already partially straightened out going up the hill, I could not allow it to back up straight.  There was a tree and a steep hill behind it.  I managed to stop the truck’s slide, but I couldn’t go forward, and I couldn’t go backward.  Problem-solving time.

                I believe it’s true that two heads are better than one.  And five heads are five times better.  In my former roles as a leader, I normally utilized the collaborative model of leadership.  I know the ideas I have at my disposal are based only on my experiences.  If I can incorporate multiple people’s experiences, I could very well come up with the perfect solution that would have otherwise evaded me.  I had at my disposal, at least four B.A. degrees, two Masters, and a Doctorate, as well as years of construction, technological, educational, and practical do-it-yourself experiences.  We all agreed going back was not an option.  No room.  We had to finish the climb up the incline.  We tried the first idea; putting wooden planks behind the truck’s rear wheels, rolling back onto them, putting planks in front of the wheels, then driving forward.  That gained up a few feet, but the wheels spun on the slippery wood.  We hooked up a towrope to a pick-up at the top of the hill.  It didn’t have the traction to move the truck and trailer unit.  It was dark, cold, and the wind was picking up.  The trailer was leaning to the side.

                The suggestion was made to call a heavy tow truck with a savvy operator who could figure out how to solve the problem.  While a phone number was being hunted down, another idea emerged.  What if I unhooked the trailer, drove the truck out by itself, repositioned the truck so it was at about a right angle to the trailer, reattach, and drive on up the asphalt hill?  I went ahead and unhooked.  The trailer was leaning so severly, it was difficult to get it out of the hitch.  Once separated, it looked very unstable, as though it could fall over if given the slightest provocation.  We never had an opportunity to test the plan because the truck tires still spun rather than moving the truck up the hill.  Instead of risking not being able to reattach to the trailer if the truck slipped sideways, I let it roll back and hooked up again.

                AAA, it turns out, won’t even talk about sending a truck if a trailer of any kind is involved.  My son, however, was able to find a local company that did send a driver out.  It would be 20 minutes before he arrived.  We assembled in the house, and I asked all 11 adults and 8 children to gather for prayer.  It was at this point I found out many of them were concerned about me.  They were concerned I was stressed over what might happen to the truck and trailer.  The possibility of damaging both vehicles had occurred to me early on, but I was not in the least bit concerned.  That morning I had preached on Mark 10:17-31; the rich young man who over-valued stuff and under-valued divine concerns.  It was fresh on my mind, and my only concerns were keeping everyone safe and making our time together profitable.  The owner, Doug, was in the room, so we told him we were about to pray and that he was welcome to join us.  “You don’t need God,” he replied, “you need a tow truck.”  Then he left.

                He was only partially right.  We did need a tow truck.  However, no piece of equipment was going to be of any help without God’s intervention.  We prayed for safety.  We asked that the driver sent to us would be one who would be able to figure out a creative solution.  We requested he be the kind of man who would admit he couldn’t do the job before forging ahead and causing a bigger problem.

                The lights of the tow truck slowly made the way up the long driveway as we walked out to meet it.  The driver got out of the truck, looked things over for a few seconds and declared, “Sorry.  I can’t help you guys with this.”  That sounded like an answer to one prayer.  My son and I started making suggestions, and he explained to us why each one wouldn’t work.  As we engaged him in friendly conversation, he walked closer and continued to look over the situation.  He asked about angles we had already tried.  When I mentioned the pick-up truck we had used to try to drag the rig up the hill, he showed interest, and asked if it was still available.  It reminded my son of this dialogue in The Princess Bride:

                Westley: I mean, if we only had a wheelbarrow, that would be something.

                Inigo Montoya: Where we did we put that wheelbarrow the albino had?
                Fezzik:  Over the albino, I think.
               Westley:  Well, why didn't you list that among our assets in the first place?

               He then worked out a plan to use the tow ball on the back of the pick-up to anchor a pulley for his winch.  He actually got a little excited about it.  So, I went and talked the owner into bringing it back.

                As the winch cable tightened, I applied pressure to the accelerator.  When my truck moved about a foot, the tires began to spin.  I braked and waited for the cable to tighten.  I accelerated again.  Braked and waited.  We continued until we had to move the anchor pick-up about 10 feet ahead, and then continued the process.  In just a few minutes, there was room for the tow truck to drive past the back of the trailer and drive up the hill past my truck.  The tow truck became the anchor for the cable.  It didn’t take long before my truck and trailer were up the hill. 

                I asked the driver to hang around until I turned the rig around and got it back down the hill.  I had lost confidence in my truck being able to stop on the gravel hill as it was being pushed by the 9,000 pounds of trailer behind it.  I got turned around, drove down the hill, made the turn onto the driveway and drove up to the front of the house.  It only took about three hours and $200, but the crisis was over.

                As I look back on this time, I realize I shouldn’t have been concerned about the situation ruining our family time together.  In some ways, it enhanced it.  We worked together, prayed together, created a memory together.  Our bonds were strengthened as we listened to each other, expressed love for one another, helped each other, and generally shaped an adventure we won’t soon forget.  We needed that.  God supplied it…and a tow truck with just the right operator.

                Post Script: The only picture taken was one the owner took before trying to pull my rig up the hill with his pick-up.  He was sending it to a friend on the beach in Hawaii.  The rest of us were too busy to grab a camera.