And Yadda, Yadda, Yadda, Mister Passed the Examination

Yesterday I had to take Mister to a high school in another city for some regional musical performance that was important for orchestra grades. His quartet passed. But that's the short story. But you always work the problem, as I say.

The weather around here has been horrible. Snow and cold. Under good conditions, it should take me about an hour by surface streets and somewhat less than by freeway.

Mister was supposed to be there a half hour before his scheduled time. So I figured if we left 100 minutes before his start time, we'd be good. Light snow and roads still partly covered in snow demanded some caution.

Right off the bat, we missed my start time. We backed out of my car port 92 minutes before his start time. But I figured no problem. Getting there a half hour before the performance was a margin of error all by itself, right?

I decided to go by surface streets since I am very familiar with that route since it is mostly on the way to my parents' home, and so I was less likely to get lost. The freeway route went partly via a complicated series of turns over a short distance and I didn't want to get stuck in a wrong lane while we went the wrong way.

At about 65 minutes from Mister's start time, Mister noticed that his musical score wasn't in the folder he had with him.

I quickly asked him if he could get another. No, he said.

In Mister's defense, he woke up with a cold that day. And he'd taken his musical score out for a music lesson I took him to on Friday. So he forgot it wasn't in the folder where it once was.

I immediately turned around to go home. There was no point in driving farther from the musical score while I quizzed Mister about whether he really couldn't get it anywhere else. At worse, he'd figure something out on the way back and we could turn back toward the school with only another minor hit to our ETA.

Mister was extremely worried about making it. Me too. But what else was I to do?

I quickly did the math. We'd have to go by the freeway route, obviously. Based on the mapping I'd done the day before, I could see that we'd likely be a bit late to getting to the high school. But going home, getting the music, and going via highway--assuming no wrong turns and no accidents or construction--just wasn't going to do it.

But it took us 20 minutes to get back home as opposed to the 27 minutes it took to get to the turn-around point. When we were still four miles from home, I could tell that we would have 45 minutes once we got home. Since it should take 40 minutes to get to the high school via the freeway, we could do it.

Maybe.

We ran into our home and Mister grabbed his music. We were off again! It was 43 minutes to his performance time.

Mister told me to go as fast as I needed. I told him I wasn't going to risk an accident to do that. But I would go as fast as I thought safe for the conditions.

As I headed to the freeway, I told Mister to get my navigation app up and running and that he would help me navigate the initial highway zig zag required to get me on the right path east.

That worked. I refused to pass willy nilly and did not go as fast as a good portion of the traffic. There were probably ten fresh cars off the freeway where they'd skidded on the snow. But I often went the speed limit. I just didn't want to unnecessarily or quickly change lanes so I wouldn't make a stupid mistake.

Mister seemed calm. He talked to one of his quartet mates and told them our ETA was going to barely put us at the school by start time.

They were worried.

When we got on the last straight stretch of the freeway, needing only to get the right exit to be very near the destination, Mister started going over his piece in a dry run of finger movements.

That's my lad! Do what you can affect!

The ETA on the navigation app continued to put us on target with a few minutes to spare. As we passed exit 174, I said to Mister, "we need exit 175, right?"

"Was that the exit?!!"

No, I said, that was 174. Phew. Yes, he said, we need exit 175.

I told Mister to have one of his quartet mates meet him at the entrance to take him to their performance room. Check. That would be done.

And then we ate up all our spare time sitting at an intersection trying to make a left when traffic clears because there was no left turn arrow there. We and every other parent coming from the freeway ...

But I assured Mister that by this point, surely they were running a little late on the start times.

Obviously, making a left into the drop off point took time, too. We sat there waiting to get in with zero minutes to his start time. His friend called. Get out of the car and walk in, she said!

Not from the middle of the road, I said. But when we pulled into the drive I told Mister to get out and go on foot. I could see him walk in about a minute after his official start time.

I had to park my car down the block in a neighborhood and I ran to the school. I found the strings corridor but didn't see Mister anywhere in practice rooms. And he hadn't texted me to tell me he was too late. Clearly, he was in a room performing. Even though he had no opportunity to tune his instrument before playing.

And they passed, achieving the score they had set as their goal.

Mission accomplished.

Yes indeed, I was pleased. We didn't panic and give up--although Mister said he was convinced we couldn't make it. Well, I said, you didn't show it. So good for you.

Truth be told, I said, when we started Plan B, I didn't think we had the time. But what else were we to do?

Mister even thought of a couple alternate plans, at that point. He could have had a classmate snap a picture of the entire piece and send it to him so he could hand write his piece while we drove in the car. Or send it to my parents' house to print it out and then we'd swing by and pick it up on the way to the school! Good ideas! That's what you do when the plan fails.

Anyway. I said we'd go home--slowly to not tempt fate--by surface streets the way I'd planned to go to the school.

And on the way, as I braked to stop at a light, my car started skating toward the mini-van at the end of that line of vehicles already stopped.

Oh, crap.

It quickly became apparent that I would not stop in time. After all we'd been through, I was going to crash. A low-speed crash, to be sure. But we were going to crash.

So I turned the wheel hard right into the curb and finally the wheels bit and I turned into a snow bank on the side of the road, missing the van by a good foot on my front left corner.

A good foot! Not even close!

I couldn't push the car back into the road with Mister at the wheel. The snow had fallen in behind the track blocking the right wheel. I got out my entrenching tool and dug out the wheel. But within five minutes of going into the snow, we were freed and on our way, with no damage to my (or any) vehicle.

Although the snow compacted in my grill was a silent rebuke (or tribute, I suppose).

Nicely enough, two people offered help in that short time. An older man driving by rolled down his window and offered help. And a younger woman actually stopped her car and got out to ask me if she could help. No, I explained, I just need to dig out the snow. But thanks very much for the offer, I said. It really was nice. Many people are nice.

So I used that example as an illustration of what I'd often told Mister since he is learning to drive. If you are heading for an accident, obviously try to avoid the accident. But if you can't, aim for property to avoid vehicles. Aim for parked vehicles to avoid occupied vehicles. Aim for occupied vehicles to avoid people on foot or on bikes. I was able to hit snow and use it to stop my car and avoid involving anyone else.

The rest of the trip home was uneventful. I had Mister fill the gas tank (It was the first time he'd added gas to the car. I've read of 20-somethings who didn't know how to do that simple task and was determined to avoid that).

And we got a pizza on the way.

So there you go. We headed out to a distant high school one snowy and cold morning. And yadda, yadda, yadda, Mister passed his musical performance test. That's really the basic story.

And oh yeah, never give up when you have options. If you haven't failed yet you simply haven't succeed yet, right? Who knows, maybe the horse will sing. And maybe the quartet plays.

Always work the problem. I think I've mentioned that before.