Relationships 2

I guess I'm becoming nostalgic regarding the town in which I live (Nampa, IDaho) and that same town becoming another town of the past. As we move to Kentucky incidents of the following will not take place.

We had a huge moving sale this weekend. People came out in droves and purchased most of our stuff to the tune of nearly paying for the move. How rewarding to hear a retired NNU Prof recall our days together 50 years ago, or the lady that said, "Burwick? Ray Burwick? I know you. We were in school together. To know and be known is a cherished phenominon.

Then this week I'll meet my college roommate at the Pendleton Oregon Roundup, as we have done yearly for the past many years. Our wives join us this year for an added attraction.

Developing relationships. What a blessing.

One of my classmates of 50 years ago brought tears of laughter when he wrote the following for his church newsletter.

"What are you doing during semester break, Les?" It's the evening meal in the spring 1959 and I'm seated at a table with guys from my dorm in the dining hall of Northwest Nazarene College in Nampa, Idaho.

I don’t have a clue, much less a plan, for the week ahead but my desire to portray an attitude of adventure prompted me to improvise,” I'm hitchhiking to Southern California, Hollywood".

It has the desired effect and the conversation begins to center around such an undertaking. "How far is that?" Ray Burwick asks. "I dunno", I answered truthfully "maybe 800 or a thousand miles".

I liked the sound of "a thousand miles' it lends stature to my sudden quest.
I notice Ray is figuring something on a piece of paper. "You want to come with me?" I ask.

He looks up from his figures and says "Yeah, I've never been there, but I don't want to hitchhike. I just bought a small car today and I'm figuring what it would cost us to drive. It gets real good gas mileage."

"Really?" I said, warming to the idea of not hitchhiking. I've done some hitchhiking but, like making love on the beach, it's a better idea than it is a fact.

"What kind of car?" I ask. "It's an Isetta, made in Italy." Great!, I’m thinking, an Italian sports car. California here we come!

We decide that we will leave immediately. He will go get the car and I will meet him in the parking lot of Chapman Hall in 30 minutes. While waiting for him to arrive I have visions of Ferrari's, Maserati’s and Lamborghini's dancing in my head. We are traveling down the roads of California in this exotic Italian sports car, the simple people along the way turn in awe and amazement doffing their caps and pulling at their forelocks as we flash by at 150 kilometers per hour (whatever that means).

I'm well into this when my reverie is interrupted by the sound of a riding lawn-mower coming up behind me. Annoyed, I step aside to let it pass and turn to make sure I'm completely out of the way. In horror I realize it's not a riding lawnmower, it's Ray, and THIS is the Italian Isetta.

The Isetta is Italy's idea of an economy car. It's become economical by eliminating a few things. A wheel, for instance. The Isetta only has three wheels, two at the front, one at the rear. Or take the doors for example. Someone has taken all of them except one and it's not located at the side but rather consists of the entire front of the car. When you open the door the windshield, dashboard, steering wheel, gear shift, pedals, everything opens with it.

Ray kills the engine, throws open the front of the car and leaps out. "Isn't it great!" he exclaims "sixty miles to the gallon!" I agree that sixty miles to the gallon is great and virtually anything beats the thrill of actually hitchhiking. I throw my stuff onto the shelf that is the back seat, Ray climbs in first to drive, I follow. With amazement I reach out and pull the front of the car closed.

A turn of the ignition and the lawnmower engine in the rear jumps to life and settles into a reassuring vibration. As the sun sets we head south out of Nampa for the Golden State.

Somewhere south of McDermott and before Winnemucca we are in the high desert of northern Nevada. At 2 am the moon is as bright as a searchlight and the little Isetta is humming to itself in Italian.

Topping a rise we suddenly come upon the Jackrabbits. Jackrabbits are not "bunnies" in the stuffed toy sense. Jackrabbits are rangy desert dwelling distant cousins of domesticated rabbits. No one gives a Jackrabbit to a child for Easter. They resemble a shorter version of Kangaroos. There’s nothing “cuddly” about a Jackrabbit.

Numerous Jackrabbits are sitting in the road discussing what that oncoming noise is when they are suddenly blinded by our headlights as we chug up over the rise.. Ray swerves around the first two but the Isetta doesn't take well to surprise maneuvers at such speed and in trying to regain control he hits the third and fourth square on at about 50 miles an hour.

The impact to the front door/windshield sounds like an explosion and the Isetta's rudimentary suspension system bounces us around like a ping pong ball. A pair of rabbit ears smack into the windshield six inches from my nose leaving a dusty ear imprint and tufts of fuzz on the windshield wiper.

We don't seem to be damaged and we’re still moving. We look beyond the headlights and in the moonlight we can see thousands and thousands of rabbits on the road each one of them a cannonball aimed at the Isetta..

The next 20 miles are driven very carefully trying to avoid the rabbits convinced that hitting one with a wheel will probably roll us over. After about an hour of such maneuvering we leave the rabbit road crew as suddenly as we had entered.

The highway begins to descend and the Isetta picks up speed. We haven’t seen another car in either direction since we left McDermott, Nevada, 2 hours ago and the Isetta is no longer humming Italian tunes but is in full-throated opera is we roar through the night at 70 miles an hour.

Ray, who has been doing all the driving since Nampa, pulls to the side to let me drive. I open the front of the car to change places and he climbs onto the shelf behind our seats to get some sleep.

I pull back on the highway and accelerate very slowly. Both cylinders are giving it their best but it takes time to get up to speed. Around 50 miles an hour I notice that the Isetta wanders at will all over the lane. At 60 it’s nearly impossible to keep on our side of the road. I can’t figure out the problem! When Ray was driving 70 the little shopping cart hummed along beautifully but with me driving at 55 I’m a threat to our lives.

Ray becomes aware of our rocking and swaying and suddenly sits up in the back. The sudden motion throws us across the dividing line of the highway. I slow to a stop and we discuss the problem

The Isetta because of its three-wheel rear engine design is inherently unstable. It can carry two passengers at highway speeds providing the two passengers sit in the two front seats and, I guess, sit fairly still. Any variation in that set-up and it becomes, at lower speeds, hard to steer or at highway speeds, impossible to steer. Ray moved up front and put his head against the side window and tried to sleep. And thus we made our way to Southern California.

I think often of that Isetta. It certainly had its selling points. It was as economical to run as a motorcycle but without the bugs in your teeth. However, there could be no surprises on the journey. Everything had to be just right or it became cumbersome and awkward. There were times when riding in the Isetta became more of a problem than whatever had happened on the road. If your journey has conditions that are unpredictable you need better transportation.

For many of us our early introduction to God was defined to us in terms of His anger and punishment. If we do not go deeper and learn for ourselves what God is really like by reading about His son Jesus in the Bible, we discover that our own spiritual vehicle is very underpowered and unstable. Such a vehicle is totally inadequate for the surprises we will run in to on life’s road.

As we become adults we are smacked by relationships and betrayal, illness and death, disappointment and rejection. We soon begin to believe that really God is out to “get” us just over the next rise.

Nobody travels a road of life that is without hazards and obstacles. It’s the nature of the journey. The questions is, what are you traveling in? God’s love and presence in our lives gives us a vehicle that is more than adequate for all of the obstacles, hurts, and dangers we may face. When we make Him our personal friend and companion through His son Jesus, He removes the agony of our journey and replaces it with power.

Isn’t it time you traded up?

See you Sunday,

Thanks Les Shelton for letting me use this.