crash

Sacramento is one of those citys that looks exactly the same at any given place, big buildings and lots of traffic. I wasn't a very good passenger. I spent most of the time with my eyes glued to traffic helping David drive from my perch in the passenger seat. David is what Grandma Roberts calls longsuffering. I would have told myself to shut up in his place but he only smiled and held my hand instead of the stick shift. The unsupervised stick shift should have increased my discomfort but the real issue was me, not traffic. I've been a little jumpy ever since we auctioned off or packed up everything and started living out of suitcases and relatives' spare rooms. We were in Sacramento to meet the Maranatha team and learn what exactly I was supposed to be doing when I got to Delhi. Thursday we followed Google maps to the KVIE studio and watched filming. Friday We met the office staff and I got a hurried explanation of the job description. The choleric young woman who seemed to be in charge explained that I will be writing scripts and then showed me an example, left column: time prints for appropriate video, right column: audio accompaniment. I explained to her that I do not do visual arts. I was told I was supposed to write. I write. She appeared unshaken by my profession. Not only must I arrange both the audio and video portions of the program, I must figure out how to integrate the two. I think I turned white, recovered slightly, and suggested that there would probably be a significant learning curve.

Now I'm staring wide eyed out of the passenger side windshield, knuckles white, legs braced, preparing my expectations for a head on collision with reality.