Coping Pole

The Coping Pole

         “Give me a break!” Dan fumbled with his key as he unlocked his car door. He opened the back door and tossed his briefcase onto the back seat. “Just give me a break!” he exclaimed to himself again.

         “I work my butt off and what appreciation do I get?” he mumbled as he pulled out into the traffic. “I do my magic to get their tail out of a crack and what do they do? They replace my contract and cut my rates.” He felt the stress building up inside of him—again.

         Dan owned and operated a successful consulting firm. The booming market had stretched his five-person consulting team beyond its reasonable limits. His newest client had just informed him that the contract that they had intended to sign included more scope and less pay. He had signed it anyway and left the meeting less than thrilled with what had previously been a very promising assignment.

         He picked up his cell phone; flipped the lid open; pressed the enter button and spoke into the mouthpiece, “Office”.

          The voice recognition feature immediately dialed the number and his office phone began to ring—and ring—and ring.

          “Where in the world is Marge? Why can’t I talk to my own office?”

         He imagined the lost client calls that Marge was missing. He had stressed the importance of maintaining accessibility with the clients. Nevertheless, several clients had commented that they had exceeding difficulty contacting him over the last two months that his new receptionist had been working for him. Frustrated that there was no answer at his office, he disconnected the call and tossed the cell phone into the seat next to him.

         “Things are gonna change,” he muttered to himself.

         A horn blared from behind him. Apparently, someone was not happy that he had slowed and wandered close to the painted lane divider as he was operating his cell phone. The driver whipped out from behind him and waved at him with a single digit as he passed in the adjacent lane.

         “Jerk!” Dan exclaimed. The stress continued to mount.

         He was driving home in the tail end of the rush hour. Although he was later than most commuters headed his direction, it was still the earliest that he had gotten off in two weeks. He had a total of forty miles to go until he reached home; however, only the first twenty miles were unpleasant. Unconsciously his mind began running down the projects and the deadlines that were looming upon him.

         He picked up his cell phone again and spoke, “Office.”

         Again the phone dialed his office. Again it rang endlessly without Marge answering it. He tossed the unanswered phone again into the seat beside him.

         “Where is it?” he said to himself.

         He knew it was not time. Over the last six years that he had driven this commute he had come to memorize each landmark. The one that he was looking for was still in front of him. He anxiously began to make note of the landmarks as they passed.

         “It’ll be here soon,” he assured himself.

         The cell phone erupted with a sing-song ring. Dan flipped the phone open and spoke, “Hello.”

         “Dan, its Marge. I thought I would check in with you. I know that I said I would work late on the Brewster account tonight, but something has come up and I had to go home.

         “Marge, the deadline for that proposal is noon tomorrow. I don’t like cutting it this close. How much have you gotten finished?”

         “Well, actually, I’ve only just started. But I’m pretty sure that I can have it all typed and printed by noon tomorrow. Jerry got these tickets to the playhouse this morning and they are for this performance only. And, well, his boss is going with us and Jerry said that it was almost required that we go. So, as you see, it’s not like I have any choice.”

         Dan shook his head and thought, Sure, drop everything to please your husband’s boss. Forget the bind that it puts me in.

         “Marge, you do what you’ve gotta do. But, I’ve absolutely got to have that proposal ready at noon tomorrow. If you can’t do it, tell me and I will make arrangements to get it done. Just don’t say you can when you can’t.” He was sure that the frustration was being conveyed in his voice. At this point though, he didn’t care.

         Dan exited the freeway onto the local two-lane road. He was about 25 miles from home. A couple of more miles and he would see it. He always looked forward to seeing it. Today certainly would be no exception. He mentally began to assess the progress that he had accomplished that day. He was thoroughly disgusted when he determined that he had added more to his “TO DO” list than he had removed. He crossed over the railroad track with a double bump. He could see it coming into view. He began to smile. He reached over and turned his cell phone off. It was in clear view now and advancing at the rate of the speed limit.

         He readied himself for the mental exercise that had become a ritual over the past six months. He was passing it now. "It” was a telephone pole—not just any telephone pole. This was Dan’s “coping pole." Six months ago the pole had been struck by lightning. It had weathered the lightning strike with little damage. However, it had been splintered slightly near the top of the pole. Wires and cross-bar were intact, but a solitary shard of timber, which was still attached to the pole, stuck out jaggedly. It provided a hanger for some unknown article. Certainly it went virtually unnoticed by most of the motorists who passed by. However, Dan had noticed it immediately. And each day as he passed by the beckoning shard he noticed it again. It seemed to solicit some purpose from him.

         About a week after the lightning strike, after a particularly hectic and trying day, Dan discovered its purpose. By some act of revelation or epiphany, it became clear to him. As he drove by the splintered pole, he mentally hung all his concerns and problems on the inviting shard. It felt good when he did it.

         He continued down the road; he looked in his rear-view mirror and smiled and said, “Goodbye guys. I’ll pick you up tomorrow on my way back. But you’ll just have to spend the night there without me.”

         He knew it was just a mental exercise. But, somehow, it helped. He had found a physical way to leave the problems that entered his life from the workplace hanging on a pole on the way home. It was a way to cope with the hectic events that invaded his life. Each day as he drove home he looked forward to seeing the jagged shard protruding from the telephone pole—his coping pole.

         Dan focused his attention on the countryside as he traveled down the road. There was a lush greenness to the pastureland. Cows grazed, birds flitted about, and nature carried on with her business in spite of his busy day. He had come to notice these things more since he had been leaving his problems on the coping pole. He took a deep breath. He allowed himself to think about his grandkids. He continued to smile. He thought of Linda at home now. He knew that he would be greeted by the pleasant smell of dinner as he walked into the house. He looked forward to that. There were pleasant things waiting for him at the end of this road. The traffic on the road did not bother him. He followed the car in front of him patiently, even though it was traveling well under the speed limit. He was content to just follow. He didn’t notice the volume of traffic meeting him nor did he notice the telephone maintenance truck laden with creosote replacement poles as it passed. He was content, unburdened.

         “There it is over there,” the passenger in the maintenance truck offered as he consulted his work order.

         The driver pulled the truck over to the side of the road. The passenger consulted his work papers again, “Pole 2341—struck by lightning about six months ago. We can drop the pole off on that flat spot next to it. The installation crew will replace it tomorrow. This will be the last one for this road, and then we can go home.”

         Dan pulled into his driveway. He was glad to be home. Tomorrow he would face the world again. He knew that he could cope with it all as long as he had his pole on which to unload the day’s problems. He could smell bread baking as he walked into the house. Life is good, he thought and smiled to himself.