Stephen Yeargin

I walked out the door Monday morning to see a tow truck trying to scoop up Samantha’s car (the last in the lot) to move it so that they could paint the lines and re-seal the lot. I admit that the management had tucked notices in our door that the project would begin that morning, but I had been convinced that we would have plenty of time to get the cars moved or at least that the lot would be roped off the night before. Not so much. The tow truck company, eager to make a buck, happily tried to cart off our two vehicles (as he had been instructed) and the management was prepared to charge us $200 to move both cars.

I spent a good seven minutes in the manager’s office doing more arguing than I think I ever had to do as a college newspaper editor. Her argument was simple: we were warned, and now we have to pay the consequences. Mine was more to the point: they have my license plate numbers and telephone numbers on file for a reason, and towing my cars was an extreme measure to take when a simple phone call or a knock on my door would have resolved it. Furthermore, I question their integrity after an agent admitted to me that the intention was to make a $75 per car profit from the ordeal. A full lot of cars would have been quite a windfall. I left very angry (and a bit hurt), and have all but resolved to not set foot in that office again until I cheerfully deliver our notice of intent to vacate next year.

I did accomplish something that day despite the lousy start to an already busy week. Nate Baker was hosting “Nashville’s Nearly Impossible Crossword Puzzle” on his site over the weekend, and my wife and I had done some serious damage to quite a few of the clues. Between spikes in my blood pressure from talking with a hapless leasing agent over the phone, I was able to finally crack the last one. For my efforts, I was to be awarded a coveted Opryland Belt Buckle tonight at the CentreSource Mixer. Awesome.

The first six months of 2009 have been filled with many storms. Tonight was yet another time that Samantha (who sprained her ankle yesterday and hasn’t been able to swiftly descend the stairs) wanted both of us to head down to the fitness center to avoid the oncoming storm. I had already ordered a pizza so, while she gently pedaled a stationary bike, I stayed in our upstairs apartment. The afternoon sky turned from a light blue haze to a deep gray with streaks of lightning chasing into the neighboring county.

One could not help but look at the map to other areas of the mid-state. To the far west, the newscaster repeatedly said the name of one of the communities where a co-worker lives. To the southwest, the community that my parents call home was getting high winds and heavy hail. Friends that had planned to see a movie on the lawn at Centennial Park were changing plans and shuffling over to safer locales.

It is fitting that many analogies to our human condition center around the idea of storms. Emotions rage beyond control and often beyond comprehension. The power of the winds is only matched by the resilience one sees in the aftermath. I have had a few storms of my own in the last few years, and some were of my own creation.

There is an old joke that says, “Hundreds of people are struck by lightning each year as they search for the silver linings in life.” I am usually one that accepts the reality as what it is rather than attempting to understand or change it. But I do have a need for a bit of reconciliation and a chance to find the calm that follows the storm – I am not a fan unfinished business.

Saturday morning Samantha and I participated in Ellie’s Run for Africa, a 5K race through Warner Park to benefit church and school projects to help out children in a Nairobi. We also had Samantha’s brother and childhood friend stay with us the night before, and my mom’s sister turned in her first run after having her baby boy in April.

It was a fun day at the park and another “personal best” time at around 41 minutes. I am still shooting for the mid-thirties, and Samantha already has a few races picked out for later this summer. My phone has an app called “Run Keeper” that tracked my race.