There’s an old song about going over the river and through the woods to grandmother’s house. I think about it when I travel for the holidays. My bride and I headed south to Charleston SC to see my favorite daughter and her dashing husband for Turkey Day.

At the last minute, my favorite daughter asked if we could bring a Christmas tree with us. Of course! The tree is one of those convenient holiday inventions that fits into a bag, and we happen to have one more than we need. So, Engineer Chip decided to find a way to put the tree in the Lexus RX350 boot.

Everything seemed to go well. The bag, bigger than it needs to be (thanks Amazon), nestled into the hatch area. This of course meant that all the suitcases needed to go into the back seat area. Someone brought only one suitcase. A large one. Purple. Someone else brought only one suitcase. A large one. Black. And, a Wild Dunes athletic gear bag. And a laptop backpack. And a camera bag. And a tripod. And…well, suffice it to say that in this family it is not the woman who brings too much gear.

So there it is, all packed up, and we go to start the car. It’s our first road trip with this SUV. I’m looking forward to the ride. I mash the start button. Nothing. The starter solenoid won’t even engage. Now Engineer Chip has a real problem. The battery voltage had been checked earlier that day, and registered 12.2 vDC. Why did Engineer Chip check? Well, it has been starting slowly the past couple of days. But the battery is dated March 2020, and is a name brand. How can it be bad? Now!

I pulled the battery out, and put it in the 1995 F150 floorboard. The battery dealer closest to me would not touch the battery without paperwork being presented. I couldn’t help but think of every WW2 movie where the good guys are on the train and the bad guys want to see paperwork. What would he recommend? Try the distributor. They are only a few miles away. So off I went. A few miles turned out to be at Ashland Road and Pouncey Tract. But, there, like magic, customer service appeared in the form of a quiet young country man. He took the battery, found it to fail the load test, and brought me a new battery in about three minutes. That’s service. What was written by the manufacturer on the battery label — 24 month free replacement — was just what they honored. No papers!

So, new battery in, we headed south. About 90 minutes behind schedule. On the way, I stopped at a major chicken fast food for fuel. For me. And some high quality premium gas for the RX350. At the counter I stood in line for a few moments, and then waited for my wife’s fresh onion rings and my sandwich order. Standing there I couldn’t help but notice other customers. An older lady walked in. She was wearing those cheap fabric shoes, with a printed pattern that reminded me of a baby room wallpaper, skin tight pants stretched so tight, and a black tentlike blouse. Her freshly colored red hair was pulled back just far enough to see her frown as she walked up to the counter.

“How much is a chicken breast?” she asked.

“What?” replied the truly helpful older woman manning the cash register.

“How much is a chicken breast?” she yelled through her mask. The nice counter clerk replied “$2.41 with tax.”

“I’ll have two mild chicken breasts. And two chicken sandwiches, spicy. And a serving of creamed potatoes with gravy. And beans.”

“What?” asked the helpful counter clerk, as she leaned under the plexigas barrier. “The kitchen is making too much noise.”

The lady repeated her order, with some displeasure, and louder. Having two older people with masks on in a noisy kitchen didn’t help.

The order was placed, and the clerk turned to the kitchen and asked when her mild chicken breasts would be ready. “Nine minutes!” yelled the cook. I’m hearing everything, but no one else seems to be able to. “Nine minutes!” came the call again.

“Ma’am, we don’t have plain chicken breasts right now, it will be a while. Would you like spicy?”

The red-haired customer shook her head as if she had been asked the stupidest question ever. She scowled back and sputtered “No! I have to feed them to a dog!”

So, there on the side of I-95, I saw what this current health crisis has done to us. No one can understand each other through masks. Restaurants are running flat out and can’t keep food prepared. The tension of life seems to create ill will that spills out when people don’t get what they want. Even if the nice lady behind the counter is trying her dead-level best to get you on your way, some customers respond in anger. Anger, plain as day on her face, even behind her cheap sunglasses. Why?

Let’s try to remember that we walk this earth at our peril, and by the grace of God we somehow survive another day. When we face challenges, let’s try to be gracious, to remember that we may not have all the facts. Let’s try to respond with kindness rather than ill will. As the holidays are upon us, let’s try to recall better days, and carry that spirit into these harsh times.

Happy Thanksgiving!