It's cold outside...

Peggy started pre-school today. Her new job involves taking a little guy to pre-school. It is the perfect job, for her and for us. And I am sure she will do well in pre-school (just kidding Peg!). I was in Red Deer in the evening...and we talked on the phone about how different our lives are this year. Last year Peggy had to drive to work early (did I say early!!!!) in the morning and we all had a lot of driving to do. We seem to circle closer to home. That is, except for me!

I was presenting books at a Pastors Breakfast (Tuesday morning) and woke up around 5:30. Too early to get up, so I sleep/prayed my way into the day. Hotel rooms make a surreal chapel, and as I listened to showers start, doors close, trucks warm up...I asked God for a little more of a surprise today...something a little more obvious.

I went down to breakfast at 6:30 and the room was abandoned, except for the lady setting out the "continental" breakfast. "Continental" must mean, made to all taste the same, and fill you with sugar and caffine to fortify your day and rocket launch your glycemic index. It was so quiet in the room that when I stepped onto the floor and my miraculous shoes (another story), hit the hardwood...the lady at the "breakfast bar" (bar to good nutrition), jumped as if I were an ax murderer. She immediately left me in the room, alone with my clattering shoes and styrofoam everything. I sat down and began to read a newspaper, when another man, a man like me, a salesman, (who else is up at 6:30 am wearing shirt and tie and eating styrofoam, er, I mean eating on styrofoam) came in and sat at the table next to me. We were like the writer says, "two solitudes" in the same room. He picked up his paper and I saw him look at the headline, which said something about "SUV sales plummet, Small car sales rise"...and he sighed. Sighing is significant...what makes you sigh? It was so loud, and the room so silent (plastic forks make no noise on styrofoam plates), that I looked up and saw he had his eyes closed, not so much like a prayer "closed eyes" as the "end of a big sigh" closed eyes. We were like mirror images...with the exception of his eyes closed and mine wide open (afterall I had prayed for a surprise). He set his paper down and said across his table, his words spilling onto my table, "It's like the end of the friggin' world."

I thought a few things.

He must have a big truck and can't afford the gas...
He must have read a different headline than me...maybe something about a hurricane
He wasn't saying that to himself...he was talking to me.

Gulp...er ok...surprise was knocking on my styrofoam plate...but nothing was popping into my head. "Yah" I said. Not sure what I was saying 'Yah" to.

"I can't afford to stay on the road, gas is killing me." I took that to mean the price of gas, not some other gas issue.

"I am in the same boat" I said, happy to find some common ground.

"Well you probably don't drive what I drive" he sighed again.

His words couldn't be truer, I am the only person in Alberta who doesn't drive a truck...or so it would seem amongst the road warrior, bag carrying class of salespeople who get up at 6:30 for breakfast. I talked about what I do, who I sell to. He talked about how hard he works and how little he has to show for it. I said, I had a best seller always for sale, the Bible. He laughed, and said it was good that it was still selling. I agreed.

He outlined all of his woes, price of gas, big something or other truck, diminishing sales, demanding sales manager. I listened, sighed with him, and mentioned that I thought his prediction of the end of the world was a little premature.

As he stood to leave he said, "Yah, I suppose the end of the world will not be written up in the Globe and Mail."

The Bible salesman agreed whole heartedly. "Your right about that, have a great day."

Out the door, and off to the Pastor's breakfast...what happened then...check my next entry.