An Interesting New Year’s Eve

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December 31, 2009.

“Dad, your driver’s sick and can’t take drive you to New Orleans tonight for the Sugar Bowl tomorrow. I think there’s a bus from Montgomery to New Orleans that gets in about noon.” “Son, are you crazy? I gotta get to New Orleans tonight. There is some first class hootie there, and I ain’t gonna miss it. Why don’t you drive me?”

Junior rolled his eyes, “because its New Year’s Eve, we have our annual tax sale, where we offer to pay their taxes next year if they buy this year. It’s always a huge sale day for us, and we have year end close out on the books. You remember those. I’ll make you a deal, I’ll drive you to the Mississippi state line and then you can drive and I’ll get back somehow.” “Sounds like a deal”, Senior responded.

Later that day, Junior stopped the car at a Hardees and handed the keys to his father. “Don’t get stopped, or you’ll spend New Year’s in a Mississippi jail”, he smiled. “It’s the old double nickel til we get to New Orleans. I’m staying at the Hilton.”

After waiving goodbye, Junior picked up the telephone and called Lomax Car Rentals. “Pick me up at Hardees”.

Christmas with Jacks

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December 10, 2009.

The dealership had its annual Christmas party for its important customers and its staff and their families. Even in a bad economy, Holiday cheer had to be maintained for morale. Jack, Sr. held court.

As the kids opened their presents, Jack, Sr. was getting gifts from everyone, Cuban Cigars from Beau, candy from Elise, the shapely secretary, bourbon from Mikey, the head of the garage, and on and on. Junior watched as the boss got all these gifts he didn’t need or want, while Junior got nothing. He felt a little sick to his stomach. At that moment, Jack, Sr., walked up. “Look at all this crap, they give me for Christmas, although these cubans is pretty nice. We’ll have to fire up them puppies.” “Right Dad, I’m think I ate something that’s a bit too rich, and I’m feeling a little nauseous, so I’m going to split.” “Son, don’t lie to your pappy, I know you’re going out to bag you some young filly to ride tonight.” “Whatever you say dad”, Junior answered in a monotone.

As Junior was heading toward the door, Jack, Sr. shouted, “Junior, I’m going to spend Christmas at home this year. Let’s have a good ole’ time.” “That’s great, dad, turkey, gravy, stuffing and yams okay?.” “Sure, son, that sounds like heaven.”

December 25, 2009.

“Junior, you out did yourself this year. Good food and now we can watch a couple of basketball games on the television set and drink some nice port and smoke the cubans I got from Beau for Christmas.”

“Okay, dad, but let’s talk about the future for a minute. We have a huge business and we need to plan because we’re not going to be around forever. Something could happen to you, or something could happen to me. We need to think long term. Son, you get that lawyer to schedule a meeting with us about mid-January to talk about that. I am feeling a bit more mortal these days.December 10, 2009.

The dealership had its annual Christmas party for its important customers and its staff and their families. Even in a bad economy, Holiday cheer had to be maintained for morale. Jack, Sr. held court.

As the kids opened their presents, Jack, Sr. was getting gifts from everyone, Cuban Cigars from Beau, candy from Elise, the shapely secretary, bourbon from Mikey, the head of the garage, and on and on. Junior watched as the boss got all these gifts he didn’t need or want, while Junior got nothing. He felt a little sick to his stomach. At that moment, Jack, Sr., walked up. “Look at all this crap, they give me for Christmas, although these cubans is pretty nice. We’ll have to fire up them puppies.” “Right Dad, I’m think I ate something that’s a bit too rich, and I’m feeling a little nauseous, so I’m going to split.” “Son, don’t lie to your pappy, I know you’re going out to bag you some young filly to ride tonight.” “Whatever you say dad”, Junior answered in a monotone.

As Junior was heading toward the door, Jack, Sr. shouted, “Junior, I’m going to spend Christmas at home this year. Let’s have a good ole’ time.” “That’s great, dad, turkey, gravy, stuffing and yams okay?.” “Sure, son, that sounds like heaven.”

December 25, 2009.

“Junior, you out did yourself this year. Good food and now we can watch a couple of basketball games on the television set and drink some nice port and smoke the cubans I got from Beau for Christmas.”

“Okay, dad, but let’s talk about the future for a minute. We have a huge business and we need to plan because we’re not going to be around forever. Something could happen to you, or something could happen to me. We need to think long term.” “Son, you get that lawyer to schedule a meeting with us about mid-January to talk about that. I am feeling a bit more mortal these days. Since your momma died, I’ve been acting like a damn kid and not being an adult. I guess I was channeling my grief through living it up. And I am not sure that I’m completely past that, but we do need to do some planning son.”

Your Son’s a Genius

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November 3, 2009.

“Dad, you’re going to kill yourself and me if you keep this stuff up. If you were to die today we would lose the dealership, because of having to pay Uncle Sam $100 Million in estate taxes.”

Jack, Sr. looked surprised at his son’s passion about the dealership and his lack of passion over his condition. “Son, you didn’t say that you were happy to see me survive.” “Dad, I love you, but you’re driving me crazy with this teen behavior you’ve been exhibiting these days, fast cars, fast women, sports camps, drinking and driving. I’m no saint, but you need to remember you’re not 25 anymore.”

November 25, 2009

“Welcome back, Jack. Glad to see you’ve had a full recovery from that beaning. You’re looking nice and tanned after that desert stay”, said Beau Price, a top salesman at the dealership.

“Good to be back Beau, how things swinging around here?” Jack, Sr. asked. “Bout as good as can be expected in this economy. Folks is hurting, and when they’s hurting, they ain’t buying cars unless the old one breaks down or sumthin.” “How’s Junior doing running the place?” Jack, Sr. inquired with a stern look. “Doin’ good, real good. The boy’s a financial genius. If he hadn’t been on top a things, we’d have cratered for sure.” Beau replied, ever the salesman.

Tell Me Doc is he going to live

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Jack, Jr. hung up the phone, shaking his head, “Crazy, old coot”. He called the hospital and got hold of the emergency staff who promised to call him back. He called the travel agency to get a flight out of either Nashville or Atlanta as soon as possible for Phoenix. He called in the night manager to let him know that he was in charge of the dealership for the next few days, but that if any major decisions were needed to call him on his cell phone or send him an email.

“Mr. Jenkins, this is Doctor Padhur, I am calling to let you know what’s going on with your father. He suffered a fracture of the orbital bone and a detached retina. We can refer you to a very good opthalmic surgeon who can fix those two injuries. We have him heavily sedated so that he doesn’t jerk about and lose any chance we have to fix the retina. He suffered a concussion. The petscan indicated that he’s had a few before. Luckily for him this is a mild one, the blow from the ball was not as direct as it might have been. We need your permission as next of kin to schedule these two procedures.” “Sure, doc”, Jack, Jr. responded, “And I’m on my way, I should be there sometime tomorrow morning.” “Very good”, the doctor responded. Jack, Jr. gave him his cell phone number and they ended the call. “If he keeps this up, I may not have to worry about him dying in 2010″, Junior muttered to himself.