Tonight Ken and I both had obligations at the Alta Club. But whereas I only had myself to transport, Ken had two others. So he found me there in in the library, and we traded keys so he could have the bigger car.
Anyway. I finished before he did. So yea verily I went out into the frigid night to the parking lot across the street and began searching for Ken's car. I searched and searched and searched. And the longer I searched, the more frozen I became. In fact, I began to feel like an ill-fated one-person handcart company out there in the aching night.
Still. I could NOT find the car. Even though it's a sports car. The kind which definitely does NOT hide its light beneath a barrel. Or bushel. (Or is it a basket?) Or whatever it is that lights typically hide under.
FINALLY I called Ken because we can do that now. We have cell phones in America. And he said, "Oops. I forgot to tell you. I didn't park in the parking lot."
This all put me in mind of my man J.R.R. Tolkien who famously said, "Not all who wander are lost." But the truth is that sometimes we just are.