My Peabody and the "way-back" machine

Saturday was a different day for me. If you remember the cartoon Peabody and Sherman, it felt like a little whip through the “Way-back machine”.
We planned a daytrip to Dubuque to watch my nephew play at Clarke University. The Pride.
But he plays for the William Penn Statesmen. Kind of a weird game, the Statesmen vs. the Pride.
Well, the Statesmen, are ranked No. 21 in the country in NAIA’s Heart of America Conference. So now you have the Statesmen and the Pride playing in the Heart of America. Sounds like a great place to be on Saturday. Even if it drizzled most of the day in 48-degree weather.
I had on black Duluth thermals under blue jeans, a Tommy Copper pullover, a gray William Penn hoodie, a black thermal beanie, and boots on. I was ridin’ warm, baby.
Anyway, the plans were originally to take the truck that I just got back from Marion, Illinois a week ago (after 10 weeks of sitting at a dealership getting a new-to-me used engine put in it. That’s a whole ‘nother story that most of you probably have already heard). But when I got to my brothers, I found out his in-laws were all going and we were going to take the Silver Bullet, which I believe is the name of the his wife’s parents’ mini-van. If it isn’t – it is now.
And I was volunteered to drive. To tell the truth, I’d rather drive than sit in the middle or back and get nauseous.
But driving this mini-van with 246,500 kilometers was “the” trip in the “Way-back” machine.
This thing was heavy and took, like, a block and a half to come to a stop. It was like driving the 1978 Mercury Cougar XR7 that my stepdad gave me when I was in high school.
I was afraid that when I got back in my truck, I would be tossed through the windshield when I applied the brakes, but I’m a damn good driver – when I’m not sleepy.
It took a few miles to get used to how the Way-back machine handled. Then I realized there was no touch screen audio system. It had these two round dial things that you had to manually turn to get the radio on. And the comfort system had like four dials and 13 buttons. And the people, including the mother-in-law, who we all love; and the sister-in-law, who we all love, and the brother’s sister-in-law, who we all love; and the brother, who voluntold me to drive, but was fairly low maintenance -  all had to be made comfortable.
The father-in-law, say it with me,  “who we all love”, rode shotgun with his good ear on the other side of me.
“Don, they said they’re hot in the back,” I said.
“What?” They’re hot, Don.
“Whaat?” They’re hot, Don!
“Oh….” and mumbling ensues as he fiddles with the dials and buttons with both hands like he’s configuring an Etch-a-sketch. I didn’t reach in to help for fear of getting my hand slapped.
We finally cooled the van off and the backseat party settled in. We made it all the way to Dubuque without having to stop for things that people typically have to stop for – coffee, snacks, restrooms, etc, and stopped at Dottie’s Café for breakfast.
I pulled through and around some one-ways in downtown Dubuque, which is one of my favorite cities to visit, and pulled into a parallel spot to park about a half-block down from Dottie’s.
“When we got out, there was a parking meter next to us. Nothing abnormal about it and I didn’t even think I needed to address it because it was Saturday. But I went to get my phone and take a closer look. I had the ParkPass app on my phone and was ready to scan and pay. Nope. This thing wanted coins. I couldn’t believe it. A parking meter that still took coins. I loved Dubuque even more. We loaded in about 50 minutes worth and headed down the street. Don was already down the street. Breakfast awaited.
I actually thought I was going somewhere else but I’m glad I ended up at the wrong place. I love finding these locally owned cafes and lunch counters. Sometimes you find the best food and people there.
I wasn’t disappointed. I was hungry as I didn’t eat much of anything on Friday. So, I ordered a skillet breakfast, with a side of corned beef hash, two pieces of toast, and two pancakes.
I have a sense of humor about me with strangers. It just kicks in. The waitress brought two cups of coffee - one for me and one for John’s sister-in-law.
“Did you bring any for her,” I quipped to the waitress. It was cold and I was ready for coffee. An older woman with her hair in a ponytail and the provincial Alice waitress apron over her work clothes, snapped me a look. A look that said she could handle new customers “with a sense of humor with strangers”.
“You’re sharing, big boy,” she said with a smile. She could handle strangers.
Everyone chuckled and we ate.
After that we navigated carefully to the sports complex where we parked close to the stadium. I went to back the van up to get better alignment, as I said, I’m a good driver.
I looked down at the dashboard and there was no back-up camera. I paused for a second and said if I dinked something it was their fault because there was no back-up camera and I hadn’t done this without one in quite a while.
We all survived and I pointed out about 15 pieces of architecture that I loved in that town. And I point to how well the bricks and concrete are maintained, and the views, and the rolling hills…and how much corn is still in the fields.
When I got in the truck after we got back to West Burlington I snapped back into this millennia, and spent about 90 seconds fiddling with my touchscreen and tapping the heat button. One button.
I love my extended family and how diligent they are. I love trekking around the Midwest watching Hayden long snap and try to find him NIL money. There should be a bar or something where we can get him snapping a bottle of beer or something when he turns 21 in six weeks – But That’s Beside the Point.
Chuck Vandenberg is editor and co-owner of Pen City Current and can be reached at Charles.V@PenCityCurrent.com.