A Lifetime of Experience: Here, There, There and Then Back Here Again

[UberGoober]

Sometime around the beginning of 2004, I decided it was time to use my R&R. In my job, when we are sent on especially stressful assignments, we get to take a trip to a designated location on the company dime and my position in Kingston Jamaica qualified. To be sure, like anything I have ever done in my life, I hemmed and hawed about the decision and even considered not taking the tickets. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go, it was that I was disappointed that I couldn’t be gone longer.

How I ended up with no vacation time in the bank is another story and it involves not one, but two weddings – both my own and both to the same woman. In 2002, after an application process that had stretched more than two years, I finally received my dream job and my future was at last assured. I was called to Washington DC in early March and, after a flurry of evaluations and coursework, was eventually designated to go to Kingston, Jamaica. Shortly before my program in DC ended, the woman who would become my wife, Makiko, flew out from Japan and we set up housekeeping together. On July 6, after packing out the small apartment I had rented in Arlington, VA, we flew off to our new home in sunny Jamaica with more than a little apprehension.

Looking back, I suppose now I should not have been surprised that I had been assigned to Jamaica, I had, after all, volunteered for it. Of course I had also volunteered for China, Korea and 13 other assignments, each with various levels of increasing apprehension, but, being a Japanese speaker, I had figured that I was going to go to Korea no matter what I did and so I had added Jamaica to my list as something of an afterthought. It turns out that, out of my class of 98 people, only two other people had put Jamaica on their lists and, in the end, it was simple math, not qualifications that sealed the deal. I had written that I was willing to step into the deep end of the pool. Now it was sink or swim time.

It turned out I could swim and I settled into Kingston in fine shape. My wife, being a non-English speaker, had a slightly more difficult time, but she was soon enrolled in English classes and had plenty to do while I was at work, so our home life progressed as well as two people who really couldn’t speak in great detail to one another could. Still, I knew she wanted to be married in January and we decided that, at the end of the year, we would fly back to Japan so she could be married in front of her friends and family. In fact, to make things easier, we decided she would leave in November and that I would follow in January. Shortly after, according to the plan, we would return to Jamaica as man and wife and resume our life together.

The only problem was that because of her limited English, my wife was afraid to make the connection to her flight to Japan through the United States on her own. Like failing violets everywhere, she expected an escort. As with most trips I have taken, I really didn’t want to go, but I sympathized with her plight. Being a big softy, I decided we would go together, but that rather than fly to somewhere I did not know, like New York or Chicago, that we would fly to Seattle, spend some time with my family and then part ways. Oh, and while we were there, I decided that maybe we should do a little wedding ceremony for my friends and family too.

Since it was a spur of the moment event, unlike the more lavish ceremony that was being planned for us in Japan, it didn’t have to be very fancy. Mom got a white cake at the supermarket, my sister Connie got a bouquet at the local florist, I wore a regular suit and Makiko a simple dress. Best of all was the fact we didn’t have to invite a bunch of guests. Sure, my best man and his wife had to be invited, but for the general gallery I simply asked all my brothers and sisters to bring their families and, since we were getting married immediately after Sunday services, I just had the pastor announce that anyone who wanted to stay should consider themselves invited. To my pleasant surprise, many did.

The whole trip home took the better part of a week and I was soon back in Jamaica while Makiko went on to Japan. Shortly after the turn of the New Year, I flew from Jamaica to Japan where I spent 10 happy days visiting with my former students and friends and during which we had a large fancy ceremony in a wedding chapel that was modeled on a French cathedral. It was a bigger, more lavish wedding that I could have imagined, but it made my wife happy and, as every man knows, that’s what matters most about a wedding anyhow.

The problem was this, having only started my job a year before, these two weddings and their associated trips had cost me a total of three weeks of vacation time. Since I accrued just two weeks of vacation a year, I was now in the red and it was going to take me a while to earn my way out of the hole. It proved to be a long hard slog and, to make matters worse, my in-laws came to Jamaica for a visit. Just as I fought my way out of the hole I was back in again and now, with just a few months before the end of assignment, it seemed that I would be unable to take advantage of the R&R program. That is, unless I made it a damn short trip.

It was George Washington who saved me. Since Monday, February 18th was designated as a holiday in celebration of our nation’s founder’s birthday, I had a three day weekend to work with and so Makiko and I decided to take one quick flight to Miami, shop until we drop and be back at work in time for Tuesday morning.

Of course, nothing went as I expected. The first problem, as it often does, came at the rent-a-car counter. I had expressly asked for a Dodge Intrepid, but, alas, there weren’t any available. The agent wrung her hands and sucked her teeth and tried to get me to accept a similar sized vehicle of another make but I put my foot down. I wanted the Intrepid because it was a nice size and I liked the style, there was no way I was going to change for a Toyota. After some back and forth, the agent finally upgraded me to the Intrepid’s fancier sibling, the 300M and sent me on my way. I was quite happy and now, ensconced in real American luxury, my wife and I made our way North to where I had reserved a hotel room on line. It turned out to be a dump but, like usual, in order to save a buck, we sucked it up and had a reasonable, if not exactly pleasant stay in a dirty room with a lumpy mattress. When our three days of shopping and fun in the sun ended, we departed our seedy hotel room, took our luxurious car back to the rental agency and flew home to Jamaica where I served for another six months before my assignment ended and we headed towards points East – Far East.

By 2009 I had spent six years in Japan. That is an almost unheard of streak of luck in my profession that few people have actually equaled. Once in a while someone might score back to back assignments in a first world country, but usually it is because they know someone or are getting ready to retire. In my case it was blind luck. After two years in Osaka I was sent to Yokohama and eventually on to Okinawa where I spent three long years dealing with all sorts of difficult issues. It was a decent assignment and the living was easy, but by the end of my tour I was burned out on Japan and very much needed a change of scenery. After bidding on some jobs in central Asia, none of which I received, I ended up being assigned to Buffalo, New York, where it appeared they just couldn’t succeed without my presence.

(Photo - My Chrysler 300M Special in front of my mom's house near Seattle, WA)

[UberGoober]

Although I have never dreamed about living in America’s northeast, Buffalo seemed like a good fit and the more I researched it the more comfortable I became with the idea of going there. A return to the United States had not been high on my priority list, it meant a significant reduction in salary and benefits for one thing, but I gradually warmed to the idea. A return to the states meant a lot of good things, a chance for my wife Makiko to finally live in the USA, a chance for my children to be around other children who speak English, a return to American TV, radio, fast internet speeds and best of all, a return to fast cars.

Fast cars, that struck a special note. The last time I had lived in the USA had been a time of extreme poverty for me and my transportation options had been limited. Nevertheless I had found fun cars to drive, but now I had other things to consider in addition to price as well. I simply couldn’t buy some 20 year old beater to carry myself around in, my wife was going to have to ride in it, my children too. What was I to do?

I kicked around the options and came up with just a few cars that could fit the bill. It needed to have four doors, needed to be reasonably priced, should probably be big yet still relatively efficient. I toyed with the idea of buying a truck or SUV and quickly discarded it; I had owned a 4X4 before and the results had not been nice, besides I really wanted a car and so the options came down to just a few. In the end, there were just two I wanted, foremost among them was a late model Pontiac Bonneville and so I began the search.

As I searched the online ads from Okinawa I found a great many Bonnevilles, some of which it seemed could serve quite nicely. Still, there was a thought rattling around in the back of my head that I was forgetting something. Every day, as I looked over various sec sheets and at photos of Bonnevilles both inside and out, something seemed amiss. Finally it dawned on me, there were just too many buttons on the dash. If I wanted a luxury car, and it seemed that’s where I was heading, then most of the features should be automatic. Fewer buttons were better, I decided. I wanted a beautiful, well designed car that, once it was set up, would do the work for me.

Returning to the decision making process, I again considered my options. Again it came down to just two or three choices: a Cadillac STS, a Chrysler 300 or a Mercury Grand Marquis. I had actually driven all three, and quickly eliminated the Mercury as a possible contender. Sure, I liked the rear wheel drive, but otherwise the driving experience had left me rather numb, The Cadillac had a great deal of appeal and prices on some of the older models were quite reasonable, if I found an especially nice one then perhaps.

Lastly, I pondered the 300. It was big and bulky but the styling, though just a few years old seemed to be dating itself fast. I didn't think I could live with it for an extended period of time. I was a little dismayed, the previous model had been quite nice and I had really enjoyed the one we had rented in Florida. And then it struck me, why not look for an older one?

I posted about it on-line, weighed the comments and started checking spec sheets. It was easy to find regular 300Ms and I was able to see a great many of them in the online classifieds. Once in a while a 300M “Special” would show up in the search results and I would dutifully look at it along with the others, but it wasn’t until I really sat down and looked at what I would be getting for my money that I decided to actually go with one. The limited production numbers, the fancier interior and the exterior body kit ended up sealing the deal. Maybe it would be a problem finding the perfect one, but I relished the idea of the hunt.

I started out at Trader online and quickly decided that I wanted a car with less than 75,000 miles, in perfect shape and in any color but silver. I also decided, after some serious thought, that I wanted the white interior. I looked and looked, and given my strict criteria, eliminated dozens of cars. Eventually I found a stunning black example in Salt Lake City, but it was gone when I called. Later I found a pretty blue car in Sandusky Ohio but, again, it was sold just hours before I called. I was getting nowhere, and so I turned to a national craigslist search engine.

One of the first cars I found with this new search method was at a Ford dealership in Tucson Arizona and it looked like a good one. Colored a deep metallic gray and with just 68 thousand miles on the odometer, the car looked immaculate in the photos. I checked the time difference between Okinawa and Tucson and decided it was still early enough that the dealer might be open. I called at once.

The salesman who answered the phone must have thought I was nuts. Why on Earth would some guy in Okinawa Japan be calling about a 6 year old used Chrysler? I explained the situation as quickly as I could and asked if the car was still on the lot. He wasn’t sure, it appeared in the inventory, but he couldn’t see it. He asked me to call back and went looking.

It took two more calls before he found it, but eventually he did, parked out back where another salesman had hidden it in the hopes of a quick sale. The other customer who wanted it, it turned out, had failed to get financing and so the car was still available. After some discussion, I told him to put a “sold” sign on it and that I would send a check. I went immediately to my on line bank and had a check sent, but it took several days for it to reach the dealership. Still, true to his word, my sales guy kept the sold sign on the car and turned away all others. Eventually the check got there and the car was officially mine. Now, I only needed to collect it.

The plan was simple. I would fly home in early June, now just a few weeks away, and then fly down to Arizona and bring my car home. Like the best laid plans of mice and me, however, my orders were changed at the last minute and I ended up being told I was to stay in Okinawa until the end of July. I knew at once that there was no way I was going to leave my car in Arizona until then, so I hit upon a new plan.

My parents had five children, three sons and two daughters. I am the youngest and was born four years after they had decided that four children were enough so there is a considerable age gap between myself and my older siblings. The next youngest child was my sister Connie and the fact that she was no longer the baby hit her especially hard. We fought constantly during my childhood and she greatly enjoyed tormenting and enraging me prior to using her greater strength and size to beat the snot out of me. Still, I had my moments too and she did not always emerge from our battles scot free.

As we grew older, my siblings and I grew closer. By the time we reached adulthood the horrible battles of the past had become, as they do in so many families, simple stories that we tell whenever we get together. Connie had children, was married, divorced and remarried, changed jobs and houses and by the time she was in her 40s had finally achieved some measure of success as a mortgage broker. She had it all, the best clothes, a fancy car and a house in a gated community. After a lot of hard work, she had finally arrived, and then the economy turned sour - she lost it all within the space of just a few months.

Since I was overseas, I ended up moving Connie into a house my wife and I had just bought in my hometown. With her housing taken care of, you would think things would get better, but she was still struggling. Like so many people in during the “great recession” she applied for job after job but did not get a single call back. Her lack of success led to depression and she was at a low ebb. I watched this happen from afar and deiced I had to help. She needed a break and I had a way to give it to her.

Connie accepted the moment I proposed the deal. I made the arrangements and sent a check to cover her expenses and she flew to Arizona to bring my 300 home. I followed her progress on facebook as she went and, sure enough, over the course of a few days she brought the Chrysler up from Arizona to our home near Seattle. She traveled with a friend and they had a good time.

When I finally got home at the end of July, Connie and my niece Audry were there at the airport waiting for me. As I pulled my suitcase out to the airport parking garage she slipped me the keys and the transaction was done. As we turned onto the row and started working our way down the parking spaces, I strained for my first glimpse. And then I saw it, crouched long and low, its sweeping lines and grey color making it look like a giant shark among the normal, everyday cars parked alongside it. I knew in that moment that I had made the right decision. I put my suitcase in the back, slipped into the driver’s seat and took it home, giddy that all my plans had paid off in such a glorious way. I am still giddy about it today.

[Alawicious]

As we've all said before, you should put these stories of yours in a book

[GreyWolf]

Dude can write! Wish I had that knack......