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A Discourse On Trials In A Carpool

by Foster Kretz

122 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #02-1323; ISBN 1-55395-607-9; US$15.50, C$17.64, EUR13.00, £9.00

Are you curious about the social encounter called the CARPOOL and what trials might be endured in one? Discover what the author went through and make a conscious educated decision whether to join or quit.

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about the book      about the author      sample excerpts      catalogue info

About the Book This book describes the incredible, but nonetheless real life events of a carpool participant for fifteen years. It is satirical and entertaining, with reflections on the history of shared transportation (going back to Medieval and Roman times). Many reasons are discussed in detail for considering whether or not to be a team player in a carpool. The reader can have fun with the Figuring Amenability to Carpool Teams (FACT) equation to calculate if you would mesh well with any given carpool. The main villain of the book is Jan Carson, whose primary avocation in life was to aggravate people and psychologically destroy them during the day after day confines of a carpool. Other carpool members had eccentricities which, together with Jan, made life a trial. Read about these true life characters and then consider your transportation environment, fortunate or unfortunate. Learn to deal with it as the author finally did. The budding psychologist might find this work interesting to see how adults can sometimes be so utterly infantile.

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About the Author The author is a retired industrial scientist who worked at various locations for a large U.S. corporation for almost 40 years. His career was very satisfying in terms of products developed and challenging assignments. His fondest memories are those of fine people he worked with including peers, customers, even some in management and, occasionally, some in the carpool. Much of his carpool life was a trial which he does not care to repeat. His happy retirement entails home projects, gardening, traveling, playing with his Labrador Retriever, visits with children and grandchildren, reading, photography, tennis, exercising, and attempting his hand at writing. His wife is a key element to his existence.

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Sample Excerpts

Jan Carson

What about Jan? He truly was a unique, highly intelligent man, who read avidly and was not only an accomplished engineer, but one who was well versed in many areas of knowledge. Did he use his ability to help people? Did he use his vast resources to help society?For the most part, the answer is NO. At one point in his life, however, I know he did an outstanding thing and also based on what I knew of his home life he was a good man, who had a fine family and whose children were well mannered.

But aside from those other sides of his makeup, Jan's other avocation in life was to discover how to reach the sensitive spot in one's persona and proceed to gnaw on it to the point that the poor individual would be an irrational basket case. In fact, he would often play the role of an eccentric, strange introvert, or mentally lacking person to get initial attention and then, watch out! You'll read a lot about Jan. He is the "ONE". He is the true shaker. You'll swear that I'm making it all up. Believe me, I'm not.

For example, let us go back to my earlier career with my employer when I was stationed in another city for about seven years. Yes, I was also a carpool participant then, but the point of this little diversion is that Jan was also at this location, and through that carpool, I first got a glimpse of his weird ways. Surprisingly, up to that time, I was not aware of the character, Jan Carson.

One day, when we were gossiping on the way home about our employer and employees, one member (let's call him Steve) mentioned this character, who was very eccentric and who liked to tick-off people, especially management, whenever he could. I commented that I did not know Jan, to which everyone reacted by wondering where I spent my time to be so clueless. "Well, describe him so I will know who you're talking about", I said. Steve went on to tell me that I couldn't miss him because he was the guy who always wore a WWII aviator's helmet, without goggles, while driving back and forth to work in the winter months.

I never recalled seeing the guy, and everyone was aghast at my ignorance. Steve went on to counsel me that I could not have missed him because he was the same guy who went through a strange cleaning ritual with his silverware before eating. "What do you mean; I've never seen anyone acting very unusual", I said. After some laughter, Steve enlightened me with the fact that Jan would come to the lunch table with his meal and always a glass of water on his tray. After he sat down, he would rinse each piece of silverware in the water and wipe it off with a paper napkin. And then, and then, before eating one thing, he would drink the same water! Agghh!

"Awh, you're full of crap; You're just pulling my leg", I shot at Steve, with a smile on my face for him thinking I was so naive to believe that. Again, Steve counseled me that I should just keep my eyes open and watch. A few months passed and occasionally I would look around for this eccentric at lunch time, although I felt that the joke was on me. Finally, one day I was over in the cafeteria, somewhat later than my usual time and was eating alone, when all of a sudden it happened. This guy approached wearing safety goggles with side shields and carrying his lunch tray with a glass of water on it. By this time, I was almost over Steve's joke and with passing interest I watched this person sit down. I essentially discarded the feature of the safety goggles, since some people often forgot to remove theirs when going to lunch, especially if they were in the middle of a test. He proceeded to rinse each utensil in the water with a methodical swirling motion and then wiped each dry with a separate paper napkin. After he was finished, a ritual that must have taken a couple of minutes, he drank the entire glass of water. So enter Jan Carson!

You're Going Too Fast!

It was a cold, rainy day in March and we were on our way home from work. The time frame was the mid-70's when the speed limit was set by President Nixon at 55 MPH. Arnie was driving, Jan was in the front passenger seat next to Arnie, Mel was directly behind Arnie, Ding was sitting in the middle of the rear seat, and I was directly behind Jan. Scarcely anything had been said since we started from work and the waning winter weather seemed to match our moods, indifferent, dreary and limp. Within a few miles of work, Mel and Ding had succumbed to sleep and I had finally become somewhat comatose.

After we had been on the road awhile I suddenly noticed a bit of cool, fresh air pass over me and as I started to revive, I heard Arnie bark a command at Jan. He said, "Jan, close that window." Without a moment of hesitation, Jan retorted in his usual gravel voice, "Say please." Suddenly, I was at full alert, but Mel and Ding did not budge. Arnie flashed a sideways stare at Jan and said again, "Jan, close that window." Jan replied, "Say please." Now Arnie was cooking. "Jan, you close that window now!" Jan, using the same resolute monotone, said, "Say please." Arnie exploded, "Jan, this is my car and when I tell you to do something in my car, you do it. Now, close that window!" Steadfast as ever, Jan said, "Say please."

Without warning, Arnie veered off the road onto a crude parking area and slammed on the brakes. To this day, I feel the good Lord had us at this parking place at the right instant. At the same time a tractor trailer truck zoomed past us, and I mean really close. Man, I thought that we had almost bought the farm! I could see that Arnie was quivering, and I immediately guessed it was not so much from our close call, as it was from the fact that he was livid about Jan. Jan turned his head toward Arnie a little bit and quickly rolled up the window. And then Jan said to Arnie, "You could have caused an accident back there." Arnie didn't say a word. He just sat there, shaking and he was literally looking white/gray with anger. By this time Mel and Ding had arisen, and they just sat there wide-eyed, and confused, probably sensing that something was amiss.

We remained parked there for what seemed an eternity, but in reality it was probably only a few minutes. Not a word was spoken by anyone. Finally, Arnie started off, still with a very white/gray pallor and rigid jaw. As we rode, he kept accelerating, going faster and faster. It was obvious that he was still irrational and not paying proper attention to his driving. I don't know at what point the next incident occurred, so I'm guessing it was about when we were going 70 MPH. I do remember we were zipping along much faster than we should have been and doing it in especially bad weather. Jan first looked over at Arnie and then at the dashboard. He then bent way over so it appeared he was almost in Arnie's lap and peered closely at the dashboard. He let the final bomb drop and told Arnie in his usual manner of grinding something out of the side of his mouth, "You're driving beyond the speed limit!" Whammo! This psychological, final slam to the canvas devastated not only Arnie, but shocked myself and to some extent the wide-eyed duo of Mel and Ding, who still were dazed and not entirely sure of what had transpired. It's a wonder Arnie didn't crash, however, with great stiffness of jaw and whiteness of knuckles, Arnie persevered. I don't recall that we slowed up much, and thankfully we arrived at the shopping center safely and for the benefit of Arnie's beaten psyche, without a ticket.

How do you like that? This guy was incredible in kicking someone when they were down. He would never let up.

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Catalogue Information

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