Dan Krotz – The Boss and I were preparing to leave the parking lot of the Evil Retail Giant when I noticed a set of carpeted floor mats in the trunk of our Subaru. They were (and are) in their factory wrappers, entirely pristine, and much nicer than the standard-issue rubber mats we’re currently using. I suggested that we should replace the rubber ones with the upscale carpeted ones.
“Oh no,” she said, with some alarm. “I’m saving them for good.”
For a number of (entirely legitimate) reasons, I burst into hysterical laughter. And I could not stop, even when I started to choke. It was only when I ran out of oxygen, and became aware of her glower, that I finally got myself under control.
“It is not in your best interests to make fun of me,” she said. “What’s so amusing?”
Just between you and me – and you’ve gotta promise not to repeat this – every so often the Boss falls off the logic train and makes about as much sense as a schizophrenic on acid skiing down an icy mountain slope. On these occasions, albeit rare, I have certainly learned that it is not in my best interests to laugh, or to suggest a saner range of alternatives; better, I assure you, to assume a longanimous face, to simply nod, to fain agreement.
“I’m just trying to think of what ‘good’ might mean in this instance,” I said, nodding. “Do you mean, like, someone important coming to see us? Who would ride in our car?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” she scoffed. “We don’t know anyone important.”
And yet, was that true? I suddenly remembered when Harald and Sonja, King and Queen of Norway, came to Minneapolis, in 1992. They were so beautiful, and young, and in love, that I washed and waxed my 1970 Volvo station wagon on the off chance that they might drive down the street where I lived. I was so hopeful. (Really).
They didn’t, but I still believe in miracles. Maybe they’ll come to the Ozarks, maybe they’ll need a ride from the airport. The Boss is right (again). We’d better save those mats for good.