Commentary.
It was a beautiful Monday morning in May as I walked out to my Chevy Equinox parked on the slab of concrete beside our “big barn.” The birds were singing, turkeys gobbled in the distance, and a bobwhite quail was calling for a mate. Coffee travel mug and briefcase in hand, I climbed into my SUV, buckled up, stepped on the brake, and pushed the “start engine” button.
Nothing.
