A Summer in Songs

Summer will soon be over and it'll be time to head back to Doha. In the meantime, I've been giving consideration to what this summer has meant to me and how there are songs that just seem to tell the story. It's been a busy summer so far with the ending of school, the trip home, teaching, learning, and some other really incredible things. So I'm going to try to summarize it using songs that tell the story.
As per usual, the end of school for me is never complete without Alice Cooper's timeless anthem School's Out.

Seriously, who among us that has a memory that goes back more than 20 years hasn't declared this song to be the official theme song of the last day of school? When the final bell rang and the kids left I was ready to run from the building celebrating the freedom that summer brought with it, but then came the realization that it may not be the wisest thing to do with temperatures in Doha hitting 125° F that week. We literally had birds sitting outside our window panting from the heat and enjoying the shade and cool breeze that leaks out of our windows. So I thought better of it and stayed put, instead focusing my energies on getting packed for departure. The temps in Doha definitely bring to mind the great song Summer in the City by the Lovin' Spoonful.

Arrival in the U.S. brought all the usual pleasantries. Family, friends, my pickup truck, sane driving, cooler weather, pork. Yeah. The important stuff. I spent a bit more time with Alice when my college class ended in early July, then it was time to shift into a mixed musical mode headed up by Styx and Mr. Roboto along with a dose of the Beach Boys (insert song here) as we headed west for a robotics conference and competition. Finishing second in the International Botball Tournament was a great way to send off some of our graduating seniors, and catching up with some friends we haven't seen in several years was awesome too. The side trip to Colorado has me recalling Joe Walsh's Rocky Mountain Way.

First time at that elevation had both of us sucking for air, especially with the ascent to 10,000 feet on a stopover on our way back to Denver, but my goodness what gorgeous country that is.

It was most definitely a summer highlight, but did not bring summer to an end. The west coast trip was to be followed up with a trip to Southwest Virginia where we had our first opportunity to meet our new sister-in-law and nephew. What a wonderful pair of additions to our family. And what trip that way wouldn't be complete without an event that brings to mind the great song Proud Mary (CCR or Ike and Tina, you choose) and a lazy day "rolling on the river"?
Nothing this summer can compare though to one of the greatest moments in our lives. There's something incredibly special about seeing your unborn son on an ultrasound for the first time. It's a true testament to the awesomeness of God who gives us life and I'm truly humbled that He's blessed us with our first child. When I try to come up with the song that does justice to this blessing all I can think of is How Great Thou Art.

This is the End

Many moons ago The Doors recorded a song entitled "This is the End." Kind of a sad number:

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end
Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I'll never look into your eyes…again

I was reminded of this song very recently, yesterday in fact. As we were approaching the end of Spring Break we considered that we had not really gone and done anything over the break. Instead we'd busied ourselves with homework and walks with the dogs, throwing in a complete veg day as well — because after all, one day may be vegetables and should really get some practice. Anyone who has ever planted a garden knows that Spring is the right time to plant vegetables too, so with the season upon us and the break here we planted ourselves for a day. Then the desire to uproot and migrate struck and out the door we went.

Now, Qatar is just starting to heat up. Supposedly it hit 32℃ yesterday (that's 90℉, but I'm beginning to like Celsius because it doesn't sound as bad.) I'm pretty convinced it was a bit hotter than that though, especially once we got out into the interior of Qatar where there's no ocean breeze, or any breeze for that matter. Mind you, we made it home intact, including the dogs who were ecstatic at the prospect of a third day off the reservation. Almost all of us made it home. This is where "the end" comes into play.

Our plan was to do the grand tour of Qatar, which is more or less like doing the

grand tour of a really big parking lot, only with camels. We left Doha and drove north toward Al Ruwais (not the one in the UAE) which is pretty much a nowhere town on the northern tip of the peninsula. It's a straight shot up Al Shamal Road from where we live and skirts the coastline, kind of, until it runs into the Persian Gulf. Well, not quite into the Gulf but close enough. Then we drove down the back side of Qatar to Dukhan, a town that would hardly be a blip on the map without Qatar Petroleum's establishment there. Then back from Dukhan to Doha, passing by one of our favorite haunts at Al-Shehanniya where they race camels.

Sounds easy enough, doesn't it? After all, the Jeep just came back from having the A/C repaired and it was pumping nice cold air. All set to go with plenty of water, some food, sunscreen, appropriate beach attire for a dip into the Gulf, camping chairs, and our dogs. Made it all the way to Dukhan, pretty much without any problems. Then the fun started as we left Dukhan and headed home. Now mind you there really isn't much between Dukhan and Doha except a highway and lots of sand, rocks and dirt. Partway back all of a sudden the temperature gauge went sky high and soon thereafter we started hearing a rattle from the engine and bluish smoke trailed behind us.

Not good.

Knowing a bit about automobiles, and knowing that this one was getting older anyway — and having my wife's expertise on old automobiles dying suddenly and with great commotion easy to tap —I put two and two together and detected the sound of a rod knocking. I know enough to know that a knocking engine rod is more or less its death rattle. Couple that with being stuck in the middle of nowhere we decided to limp home. After all, what else were we going to do with 50km to go, two dogs and a vehicle that was doing its best to win an academy award for best performance in a death scene? We made it back to Doha and, amazingly with oil pressure dropping faster than Congressional approval ratings, the thing gave all it had and got us to within about 2km of home before the thud of a thrown rod announced the arrival of its last moments.

We shoved the vehicle off of the road and into a parking space, and I set off on the walk to retrieve the rescue vehicle — our ever-faithful Land Rover that just refuses to die. Back to that fateful corner where the Jeep gave up the ghost I drove, retrieving my wife, our dogs, and all of the belongings we had in the Jeep. A few moments later we were happily in the air conditioning of our villa replenishing the lost fluids from the heat and pondering what could have gone so horribly wrong with the Jeep. I have to admit though that I wasn't particularly attached to it and really won't miss it much. The main thing now is to find someone who wants it for its parts or its metal.

Either way, this is the end.

When a Body Meets a Body Coming Out of the Roundabout...

There are things that most of us experience in life that we don't particularly enjoy. When you turn 50 the doctor wants you to get a colonoscopy. Even earlier than that the males of our species are asked to turn their heads and cough. We have to pay our taxes and stand in line at the DMV for hours on end.

And then there are automobile accidents.

Not that everyone is involved in an accident, or that those who are experience those catastrophic accidents that show up on the evening news or Youtube. No, fortunately most of us have little fender benders that inconvenience us for a time and drive up our insurance rates. Either way it goes we typically don't enjoy it.

I don't intend to imply that I'm making an exception, but a recent encounter on the roads of Doha was slightly less objectionable than most accidents. If nothing else it's given us a good story to tell. I've enjoyed telling it enough that I'm going to tell it again here.

Two days ago we were heading home after work and making our way through a particularly busy roundabout and we got cut off by another driver coming out of the roundabout. He merged partway into our lane and stopped suddenly, meaning that I literally stood up on the brake pedal in an attempt to stop. Now, this wouldn't be a story about a car accident had I actually stopped without a collision, so let's just say that the two vehicles temporarily occupied adjacent spaces. Not a smash-in-the-grill accident, but more of a love tap. The two vehicles exchanged paint and now share a bond that only the body shop can break.

So, why is this such a great story? After all, it's only a small bump that didn't involve serious injury or devastating damage to either vehicle. It's a great story for the part that came afterward. The person in the other vehicle spoke hardly a word of English and my Arabic is less than proficient. So I called a friend who is a native speaker of Arabic who showed up promptly to interpret. The exchanges back and forth involved a serious disagreement on who was responsible for another dent in the other guy's vehicle. Back and forth we went, courtesy of my friend's exceptional mastery of Arabic and English, debating the finer points of the laws of physics and how a vehicle cannot be simultaneously in two different non-contiguous locations at the same time. We hung out for about an hour waiting for the police to arrive when a phone call came to my friend asking why we had not already gone to the police station. Unbeknownst to me the other guy, having claimed that he had not, had called the police and declared the accident to be my fault.

So we made our way to the traffic police and presented our respective cases to the police officer. When the particulars of the incident were explained the officer declared it to be my fault, at which point my friend intervened and told the officer that the other guy was claiming that I had inflicted damage that it wasn't physically possible for me to have done. Out the door we went and the officer looked at the location of impact on my vehicle, then over to the other vehicle to see the damage there. When the other fellow pointed to the pre-existing dent and pleaded his case with the police officer it was made clear to him that there was no paint transfer or signs of impact with my vehicle.

Apparently evidence, laws of nature, and common sense eluded my fellow guest of the traffic police and he swore by Allah that the damage was my fault. Seems this particular officer didn't much care for that as he silenced the fellow and declared him to be at fault for lying. I'm not entirely sure if it was invoking Allah's name or whether the officer thought his intelligence was being insulted, but apparently he wasn't going to stand for dishonesty; and a person who, had he just exercised a little common sense, would have been walking away with me paying for a little touch up paint, now has me filing with his insurance for repairs on my vehicle.

So, boys and girls, the moral of the story is that you don't bite the hand that feed..., I mean, three may keep a secret...er, an apple a day keeps the...um. Hmm. Maybe there isn't a moral to this story, but don't forget that a bird in the hand beats two in the bush.