Her name is Minerva....
Paul posted this on his blog today, so I just have to share. Keep in mind, we went to the ocean last week for four days to celebrate our anniversary. And I had no idea what was in store for me.
Friday, March 19th 2010
This was it. The big “15”. It was our 15th wedding anniversary, and the components of my surprise had been carefully moved into place. Everything was ready. Nothing could go wrong.
Or could it?
I had purchased the British Racing Green MINI with white roof, mirror and white bonnet stripes on January 22nd, and left it parked at the dealer for safekeeping.
I had purchased the king-sized (24” diameter) bow online and had it shipped to Eugene’s house.
I had given them Michele’s address to send the financing paperwork to (this can be changed later).
I had purchased the custom floor mats, steering wheel cover and trash bag with the tree frogs on them, the butterfly license plate frames, the cat-head antenna ball, the tree frog keychain, and the green iPod Nano, and stored them safely in the car.
I had arranged for Eugene to drive the car down to Ocean Shores on Friday, park it in an appropriate spot on the beach, send me the GPS coordinates, and set up the camera.
I had moved the car to Eugene’s house a few days beforehand, added it to the insurance, and made sure Eugene was familiar with its driving characteristics.
I had ordered the personalized license plate, and despite a close call when the new registration arrived in the mail, she hadn’t found out about it.
There had been a couple of close calls, but I was pretty sure it was still a surprise.
Angela and I woke up in the RV on Friday morning, made breakfast, and talked about what to do with the day. I had planted suggestions about walking on the beach earlier, and this was confirmed. Somehow I managed to conceal my excitement. We bundled up, because it’s cold and windy on the ocean beach in March, and headed out. The tide was low, plenty of room to park and to walk. It’s about a mile as the seagull flies from our campsite to where the car would be, but add 1/2 mile for the beach trail and shuffling down to the water line. Off we went.
I got a TXT from Eugene: He was passing through Aberdeen. Not long to wait. We shuffled down the beach, poking at broken shells and interesting driftwood shapes with our toes.
I got another TXT from Eugene: Was the road twisty toward the end? Hmm. There’s twisty roads just after Hoquiam, but then it straightens out. I tell him so.
Another TXT from Eugene: Passing Copalis Beach. Was that right? Pulled out the GPS and started scrolling around. Uh oh. He’d passed the final turn. Told him so.
More TXTs from Eugene as I helped him get turned around. Angela is starting to get annoyed by all of the TXTing. I told her Eugene and I were almost done talking about computer stuff.
We sat on a log to “rest” for a while (as Eugene went bombing down 109 South toward 115 in the MINI).
TXT from Eugene: Turned on 115 South. Only a few miles away. We started walking again.
Another few miles, another TXT from Eugene. He had arrived. He sent GPS coordinates.
I tried to plug the coordinates into the GPS as a new waypoint, but had neglected to figure out how to do that with my new GPS. Fumbled with it for a bit. Angela looks at me funny. I put the GPS away. I know where the car is, roughly. Don’t need the GPS.
You know, planning to walk for a little over a mile sounds perfectly OK in theory - but the reality of it can be much different. It’s cold. It’s windy. The sand gives way under your feet. Also, you have to move to another RV camping spot at 1:00PM because the reservation didn’t work out as planned, so you have to get back by a certain time. You get tired. You start day-dreaming of hot chocolate at the campsite.
We walk along the beach some more. Angela starts slowing down, not looking around at the scenery anymore. She’s worried about timing. I know we’ll be able to get warm and have plenty of time to get back to the campsite once we get the new car, but she doesn’t know that. I can see the car now. It’s a tiny bump on the beach, but it’s a dark-colored MINI for sure.
A dozen more steps. I can just make out the bow. Angela is looking at her feet.
A few more steps. Angela heads for a log to sit down and rest on. We stop. I can clearly see the MINI and its bow now. I suspect Angela is getting ready to suggest that we give up on our goal of walking into town and that we head back.
I send another TXT Eugene, telling him she’s tired and asking him to very sneakily move the car closer to us. A couple of minutes pass. The car does not move.
Angela and I get up and start shuffling again. Nearly there. I slip the heart-shaped box with matching bow out of my coat pocket and hold it at my side, waiting for her to notice the car.
50 steps away. She’s still looking at her feet.
40 steps away. She hasn’t seen it yet.
I start steering her toward the car. She looks at me quizzically, then looks toward where I am steering her. Moments pass. Recognition has not dawned yet. We’re ten steps away from the car, looking right at it. The car is large as life, with a huge red bow twitching in the breeze. She still needs prodding. I hand her the box with the key in it.
You know, I am not quite sure what I expected. Angela has never been the “jumping up and down, squealing with delight, clapping her hands” sort of person, and I know this. Still, I expected a stronger reaction. What I got was stunned silence while she put it together and forced herself to believe it. There were some noises like “No” and “You didn’t”, followed by “Did you?”, and much looking back and forth at me, then the car, and the big red bow, and the box. Finally she opens the box, and there is the key, complete with the MINI logo on it, resting on a folded up red ribbon inside the box. “You did. You got me a MINI. Wait, you got me a MINI?” This went on for some time. Then: “How did you do this?”
Eugene magically appeared out of thin air. I swear he had folded the universe around himself, and threw it off suddenly like an invisibility cloak. One second he was nowhere to be seen, and the next second, he was twenty feet away from us setting up his tripod. I had been looking around for him. The trunk’s too small, he couldn’t have been in there. We had 100 feet of bare sand in all directions. I learned later he had been hiding behind a very large piece of driftwood about 100 feet away, and came out when we weren’t looking his direction. Sneaky.
By this time, Angela’s brain was slowly starting to figure out that the key in her hand might actually open the car she was staring at. We got a door open and she started noticing the accessories. Then it was time for pictures, as Eugene had gotten the camera ready.
I think I must have broken something in Angela’s brain, and the nano-bots were having trouble reassembling it. Over lunch and the next couple of hours, it slowly sunk in that she was the proud (and somewhat bewildered) owner of a brand new 2010 British Racing Green MINI Cooper with a bunch of bells and whistles (including the machine that goes “bing”). I don’t really remember what we did with the rest of our vacation as the weather slowly turned nasty and we relaxed in our RV within rock- throwing distance of the ocean beach. One item stands out clearly to me, and I will give you a “word to the wise” regarding this: If you choose to fly a kite in Ocean Shores in March, make sure that the spool your string is on has a handle that is 3/8” or smaller, and bring a cordless drill with you to help reel that sucker in.
Angela slowly came to accept that it was true and the car was hers as the weekend came to a close. I am told that the realization of it finally came into focus stayed there somewhere on the freeway between Tacoma and Lynnwood. I think the familiar surroundings finally crystallized it. As the miles sped by, the dream faded to reality - but the MINI remained.
Pictures can be found here:
http://bruteforcetech.com/001_MINI_Paul_Angela_1024.jpg
http://bruteforcetech.com/002_MINI_Angela_1024.jpg
http://bruteforcetech.com/003_MINI_1024.jpg
Friday, March 19th 2010
This was it. The big “15”. It was our 15th wedding anniversary, and the components of my surprise had been carefully moved into place. Everything was ready. Nothing could go wrong.
Or could it?
I had purchased the British Racing Green MINI with white roof, mirror and white bonnet stripes on January 22nd, and left it parked at the dealer for safekeeping.
I had purchased the king-sized (24” diameter) bow online and had it shipped to Eugene’s house.
I had given them Michele’s address to send the financing paperwork to (this can be changed later).
I had purchased the custom floor mats, steering wheel cover and trash bag with the tree frogs on them, the butterfly license plate frames, the cat-head antenna ball, the tree frog keychain, and the green iPod Nano, and stored them safely in the car.
I had arranged for Eugene to drive the car down to Ocean Shores on Friday, park it in an appropriate spot on the beach, send me the GPS coordinates, and set up the camera.
I had moved the car to Eugene’s house a few days beforehand, added it to the insurance, and made sure Eugene was familiar with its driving characteristics.
I had ordered the personalized license plate, and despite a close call when the new registration arrived in the mail, she hadn’t found out about it.
There had been a couple of close calls, but I was pretty sure it was still a surprise.
Angela and I woke up in the RV on Friday morning, made breakfast, and talked about what to do with the day. I had planted suggestions about walking on the beach earlier, and this was confirmed. Somehow I managed to conceal my excitement. We bundled up, because it’s cold and windy on the ocean beach in March, and headed out. The tide was low, plenty of room to park and to walk. It’s about a mile as the seagull flies from our campsite to where the car would be, but add 1/2 mile for the beach trail and shuffling down to the water line. Off we went.
I got a TXT from Eugene: He was passing through Aberdeen. Not long to wait. We shuffled down the beach, poking at broken shells and interesting driftwood shapes with our toes.
I got another TXT from Eugene: Was the road twisty toward the end? Hmm. There’s twisty roads just after Hoquiam, but then it straightens out. I tell him so.
Another TXT from Eugene: Passing Copalis Beach. Was that right? Pulled out the GPS and started scrolling around. Uh oh. He’d passed the final turn. Told him so.
More TXTs from Eugene as I helped him get turned around. Angela is starting to get annoyed by all of the TXTing. I told her Eugene and I were almost done talking about computer stuff.
We sat on a log to “rest” for a while (as Eugene went bombing down 109 South toward 115 in the MINI).
TXT from Eugene: Turned on 115 South. Only a few miles away. We started walking again.
Another few miles, another TXT from Eugene. He had arrived. He sent GPS coordinates.
I tried to plug the coordinates into the GPS as a new waypoint, but had neglected to figure out how to do that with my new GPS. Fumbled with it for a bit. Angela looks at me funny. I put the GPS away. I know where the car is, roughly. Don’t need the GPS.
You know, planning to walk for a little over a mile sounds perfectly OK in theory - but the reality of it can be much different. It’s cold. It’s windy. The sand gives way under your feet. Also, you have to move to another RV camping spot at 1:00PM because the reservation didn’t work out as planned, so you have to get back by a certain time. You get tired. You start day-dreaming of hot chocolate at the campsite.
We walk along the beach some more. Angela starts slowing down, not looking around at the scenery anymore. She’s worried about timing. I know we’ll be able to get warm and have plenty of time to get back to the campsite once we get the new car, but she doesn’t know that. I can see the car now. It’s a tiny bump on the beach, but it’s a dark-colored MINI for sure.
A dozen more steps. I can just make out the bow. Angela is looking at her feet.
A few more steps. Angela heads for a log to sit down and rest on. We stop. I can clearly see the MINI and its bow now. I suspect Angela is getting ready to suggest that we give up on our goal of walking into town and that we head back.
I send another TXT Eugene, telling him she’s tired and asking him to very sneakily move the car closer to us. A couple of minutes pass. The car does not move.
Angela and I get up and start shuffling again. Nearly there. I slip the heart-shaped box with matching bow out of my coat pocket and hold it at my side, waiting for her to notice the car.
50 steps away. She’s still looking at her feet.
40 steps away. She hasn’t seen it yet.
I start steering her toward the car. She looks at me quizzically, then looks toward where I am steering her. Moments pass. Recognition has not dawned yet. We’re ten steps away from the car, looking right at it. The car is large as life, with a huge red bow twitching in the breeze. She still needs prodding. I hand her the box with the key in it.
You know, I am not quite sure what I expected. Angela has never been the “jumping up and down, squealing with delight, clapping her hands” sort of person, and I know this. Still, I expected a stronger reaction. What I got was stunned silence while she put it together and forced herself to believe it. There were some noises like “No” and “You didn’t”, followed by “Did you?”, and much looking back and forth at me, then the car, and the big red bow, and the box. Finally she opens the box, and there is the key, complete with the MINI logo on it, resting on a folded up red ribbon inside the box. “You did. You got me a MINI. Wait, you got me a MINI?” This went on for some time. Then: “How did you do this?”
Eugene magically appeared out of thin air. I swear he had folded the universe around himself, and threw it off suddenly like an invisibility cloak. One second he was nowhere to be seen, and the next second, he was twenty feet away from us setting up his tripod. I had been looking around for him. The trunk’s too small, he couldn’t have been in there. We had 100 feet of bare sand in all directions. I learned later he had been hiding behind a very large piece of driftwood about 100 feet away, and came out when we weren’t looking his direction. Sneaky.
By this time, Angela’s brain was slowly starting to figure out that the key in her hand might actually open the car she was staring at. We got a door open and she started noticing the accessories. Then it was time for pictures, as Eugene had gotten the camera ready.
I think I must have broken something in Angela’s brain, and the nano-bots were having trouble reassembling it. Over lunch and the next couple of hours, it slowly sunk in that she was the proud (and somewhat bewildered) owner of a brand new 2010 British Racing Green MINI Cooper with a bunch of bells and whistles (including the machine that goes “bing”). I don’t really remember what we did with the rest of our vacation as the weather slowly turned nasty and we relaxed in our RV within rock- throwing distance of the ocean beach. One item stands out clearly to me, and I will give you a “word to the wise” regarding this: If you choose to fly a kite in Ocean Shores in March, make sure that the spool your string is on has a handle that is 3/8” or smaller, and bring a cordless drill with you to help reel that sucker in.
Angela slowly came to accept that it was true and the car was hers as the weekend came to a close. I am told that the realization of it finally came into focus stayed there somewhere on the freeway between Tacoma and Lynnwood. I think the familiar surroundings finally crystallized it. As the miles sped by, the dream faded to reality - but the MINI remained.
Pictures can be found here:
http://bruteforcetech.com/001_MINI_Paul_Angela_1024.jpg
http://bruteforcetech.com/002_MINI_Angela_1024.jpg
http://bruteforcetech.com/003_MINI_1024.jpg
