14 March 2010
274
R. Linda:
We drove into a little town that I'd never been in before. It was quite the thing, it reminded me of a small village in Ireland actually. We came round the bend on a narrow dirt road, neat cobble stone walls on both sides, meadows all around and the town was made up of maybe ten small New England Capes -- all well tended. In Ireland there would be cottages of stucco and thatch, but the New England antique capes are close enough. I did notice in me travels that these particular cape type homes are not the same outside the New England states. There is no quaintness, or character to them, they are all cookie cutter models of a more modern era. But New England and Cape Cod in particular, can boast some very pretty and historical lovelies. The difference is much like when I was served an Irish breakfast here and turned out it wasn't an Irish breakfast at all. Sort of like what happened to me on me first St. Patty's Day in Boston. I was going to be feasted with a typical Irish dinner, to find out it was a typical Irish AMERICAN dinner of corned beef and cabbage. Back home, as you know by now, it be Irish stew, there is no corned beef (well there is for the tourist population, yes we Irish lie in those places and serve corned beef and cabbage like it be traditional Irish fare when it isn't). Sigh.
But let me spend a moment on this Irish breakfast. I went to a place in Mason, N.H. for breakfast not long ago. They said they served Irish Breakfast so me mouth was watering at the thought and me mind was all set for that. So I sat meself down, ordered away and in ten minutes time comes this plate with CORNED BEEF hash, two eggs with a creamy sauce, fries and ENGLISH muffin. I was like where be the rest of it? I said, this isn't an Irish breakfast and the waitress looks at me and says, "Oh yes it is." Here I be speaking with me accent hanging out and SHE is telling ME that I don't know what an Irish breakfast is. I said to her, the ENGLISH muffins are all wrong, where be the Canadian bacon (we import that for our brekkies), the bangers, the black and white pudding, the boxy potatoes, and the IRISH brown bread or if you're from Ulster, IRISH soda bread? She threw up her hands and walked away! I was disappointed, AGAIN. "Not right, no no," I muttered as I fooled with the fork and food, "THIS is not right." So never again will I get suckered into thinking I might be served something authentic from the old sod. I should have known when the first "authentic Irish meal" I was served here was the very unauthentic corned beef and cabbage. Hrumph!
All right back to the race, so I pulled up to a small home style restaurant and I knew there were other racers already there by all the motors parked nearby. I saw Tonya's VW and me heart jumped we had caught up with her and her father. Maybe the Dragon lady would complain enough we could switch partners. So in we went and there were some locals enjoying lunch and our mission was to count pickles in a barrel. Seems the establishment was renown for their pickles. It was hard to get in between everyone as there was one large barrel and the small place was jumping with elbow to elbow locals and racers. You had to look into the dark liquid and count, no touching of the pickles, just count what you see and be off. I squirmed me way to Tonya's side and whispered I was there. She was genuinely surprised the car plow had made it to near the front of the pack. She would not trade her father, nor herself for her mother she told me, I was stuck with the old bird. We exchange counts, had the same tally and off she and her father went, and when I went to gather up the Dragon, what did I find? She was standing at a table chatting to a family about her woes in the car plow and what a dolt her son-in-law was, and such a cross to bear.
I near had to drag the woman out, and to show you how oblivious she was, I mentioned Tonya and she was like -- WHERE? Her Tonya? I said, "If you weren't so busy dissing ME, you'd have seen her and YOUR husband. They were counting the pickles in the barrel."
Then it was, well why didn't I come get her? Why didn't I tell her they were going to be there? Like I knew we'd be lucky enough to catch up! So off we went, there was one more stop and then maybe, just maybe, we'd come in fifth I thought. I know, wishful thinking on me part, but ever the optimist we came up to Turners Falls Road where we were to go onto Sunnybrook Farm and count the sheep. Well, strange it was, there was a detour sign on Turners Falls Road where normally we were to go straight down it to the farm, but the detour made you take a left instead and God knows where one would come out. I knew the farm was just around the bend, I could see no construction or problem, so I zoomed on as if there were no detour. Of course, this got the Dragon berating me I was cheating and not obeying the law. For heaven's sakes, I could see everyone else had taken the detour from all the dirt and dust kicked up on that road, but there was no one around, so why not? I could have used a good pair of earplugs for all the carrying on, but guess what? As we rounded the bend there were the sheep. I looked about me, no one about, could this be? I ran out leaving the car plow idling, me driver door open for quick getaway, and quickly counted 24 sheep. Just as I started back to me motor, I could see me own Saturn coming up the other way towards the backside of the farm, they must have taken the detour round about and well, wasn't I the lucky one?
I hooted as I jumped in and started backing up and out the way I came, but the Dragon got hold of me arm and was pulling me to stop the car so she could go talk to her son. I was like hells no, we are FIRST old woman, we are GOING and we are going to WIN this thing! So with her chattering like a magpie, I zoomed meself out as other cars were pulling in from the detour. More hooting from me as I made me turn and started back to the finish. The Dragon was furious with me, she wanted to see how her son and his wife were doing, and I thought it was obvious they weren't doing as well as us, so what's the need? We started arguing and I missed me turn. Cursing, I turned around and started back, I got to the turn just as me brother-in-law made the turn in round the bend. I gunned the car plow and uh oh, it started to sputter at the ill use of the gas petal, it started smoking under the bonnet and I knew damn it, I was about to run out of car plow steam. Me brother-in-law could see this behind me and he started honking the horn and waving at me in glee he was about to pass and he did! I chugged on in his wake and, oh no, there was another car coming up fast behind me. I shook me head in determination and pressed the petal to the metal and with an unexpected roar the car plow lurched hard forward and with the last bit of zoom it had, we made it up the hill and then it died as the other car passed us and we coasted in to third place!
BUT THIRD PLACE! We actually made a showing. I was beside meself with joy, yes R. Linda, I found JOY finally. I got out and hopped around as the Dragon, with some effort, got out of the car plow, looked at me like I had lost me mind and started moving off, but I grabbed her and hopped around with her in me bear hug of an embrace shouting, we sort of won! She finally kicked me in the shin to break the hold and began wiping the cooities off. I was like I don't care, we came in, we actually finished. Then I realised me car plow had died to give me a win. It was the end of me car plow! OH what to do? Me joy lasted a few seconds more before remorse and guilt took me over, but that lasted in less time and joy took me beaming Irish face over again, and I continued the victory dance in spite of the burn holes the Dragon was staring into me shirt, and me bro-in-law came over and we hugged, high-fived and danced around like two besotted fools while the women made like they didn't know either of us. Car two joined in the dance and there were four of us guys lifting the first, second and third place trophies over our heads cheering ourselves before we realised we weren't that alone, there was a crowd of people at the pub across the way who came over to see the idiots hopping around.
The lists were ticked off and we all had our counts correct. I was secretly hoping one of them wouldn't and I'd place or win, but no was all correct. The people applauded us and there was a formal presentation of the trophies and an invitation to lunch at the pub. Of course, I thought the Dragon was all fooded out, but no, now she was the first to get there and sit her plumb self down. Tonya and her da came in fifth, FIFTH do ya hear me? Hahaha! I was thrilled for the rest of the afternoon UNTIL it was time to go on home. The Dragon got in the Saturn with her son and his wife, and Ton and her Da the VW, leaving me to wait for the wrecker to come fetch the car plow.
It was six o'clock, I was sitting by me lonesome cleaning out the glove box looking for a tissue to polish up me trophy when I heard a familiar sound, the clunk of gears and the grinding of brakes made me look up at the wrecker pulling up next to me. Looking down at me was -- you guessed it -- PERCY! Me joy turned to depression within an instant I looked up into that sneering face.
"So, we meet again do we Sully? Same vehicle I see, that monstrosity still attached to the front end, eh? I'm surprised the front end hasn't fallen off, oh wait, it has," and he roared with laughter.
I was pissed. I shook me head, got out and asked him how much this time was it going to cost me to have the car plow towed to me house.
"Why not to the junkyard?"
"Because I need to get the plow off." I sighed in exasperation.
"Uh let's see," he started counting on his fingers and grinning gleefully at the remembrance of me doing the exact same thing, "for you, because you are becoming my number one customer, $100 buckeroos even."
I knew it! Of course it was going to cost me an arm and a leg. It was costing me more than the damn trophy was worth and the realisation of that fact when I got home and was to tell Tonya how much it cost to tow the car plow, well, I would be dead in the water no matter how gently I put it. Reluctantly, I handed up me piece of plastic and heard the zip of the manual machine take the information and good old boy Percy handed the slip of paper down for me to sign. I signed it angrily as he got out and started to set up the car plow to lift up to the truck bed.
I had to ride shotgun with him all the way to me house and listen to his stories about ME, the luge down the driveway and the car plow stuck in the culverts, keys locked in the car, and more unflattering quips, and he was thoroughly amused at me expense. And don't you know, we get the car plow off the truck and the Dragon comes out and invites him in for coffee!
I was like I don't want that man in me house! I want him off me property, him and his sneering face and unflattering quips, GONE! But no, he said he'd love a cup and in he went arm and arm with that old battle axe. I had to endure a silently seething wife, a gloating brother-in-law and his wife, a father-in-law that was twenty questions on how I got a truck plow on a compact car in the first place, a mother-in-law who huffed at me and a part time police officer/tow truck driver, who hates me and takes great pleasure in making me look the butt of all jokes in me own home.
I got to tell ya R. Linda, that is the last time I come up with any bright ideas where the Dragon-in-law has to participate. Done!
Gabe
Copyright © 2010 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
We drove into a little town that I'd never been in before. It was quite the thing, it reminded me of a small village in Ireland actually. We came round the bend on a narrow dirt road, neat cobble stone walls on both sides, meadows all around and the town was made up of maybe ten small New England Capes -- all well tended. In Ireland there would be cottages of stucco and thatch, but the New England antique capes are close enough. I did notice in me travels that these particular cape type homes are not the same outside the New England states. There is no quaintness, or character to them, they are all cookie cutter models of a more modern era. But New England and Cape Cod in particular, can boast some very pretty and historical lovelies. The difference is much like when I was served an Irish breakfast here and turned out it wasn't an Irish breakfast at all. Sort of like what happened to me on me first St. Patty's Day in Boston. I was going to be feasted with a typical Irish dinner, to find out it was a typical Irish AMERICAN dinner of corned beef and cabbage. Back home, as you know by now, it be Irish stew, there is no corned beef (well there is for the tourist population, yes we Irish lie in those places and serve corned beef and cabbage like it be traditional Irish fare when it isn't). Sigh.
But let me spend a moment on this Irish breakfast. I went to a place in Mason, N.H. for breakfast not long ago. They said they served Irish Breakfast so me mouth was watering at the thought and me mind was all set for that. So I sat meself down, ordered away and in ten minutes time comes this plate with CORNED BEEF hash, two eggs with a creamy sauce, fries and ENGLISH muffin. I was like where be the rest of it? I said, this isn't an Irish breakfast and the waitress looks at me and says, "Oh yes it is." Here I be speaking with me accent hanging out and SHE is telling ME that I don't know what an Irish breakfast is. I said to her, the ENGLISH muffins are all wrong, where be the Canadian bacon (we import that for our brekkies), the bangers, the black and white pudding, the boxy potatoes, and the IRISH brown bread or if you're from Ulster, IRISH soda bread? She threw up her hands and walked away! I was disappointed, AGAIN. "Not right, no no," I muttered as I fooled with the fork and food, "THIS is not right." So never again will I get suckered into thinking I might be served something authentic from the old sod. I should have known when the first "authentic Irish meal" I was served here was the very unauthentic corned beef and cabbage. Hrumph!
All right back to the race, so I pulled up to a small home style restaurant and I knew there were other racers already there by all the motors parked nearby. I saw Tonya's VW and me heart jumped we had caught up with her and her father. Maybe the Dragon lady would complain enough we could switch partners. So in we went and there were some locals enjoying lunch and our mission was to count pickles in a barrel. Seems the establishment was renown for their pickles. It was hard to get in between everyone as there was one large barrel and the small place was jumping with elbow to elbow locals and racers. You had to look into the dark liquid and count, no touching of the pickles, just count what you see and be off. I squirmed me way to Tonya's side and whispered I was there. She was genuinely surprised the car plow had made it to near the front of the pack. She would not trade her father, nor herself for her mother she told me, I was stuck with the old bird. We exchange counts, had the same tally and off she and her father went, and when I went to gather up the Dragon, what did I find? She was standing at a table chatting to a family about her woes in the car plow and what a dolt her son-in-law was, and such a cross to bear.
I near had to drag the woman out, and to show you how oblivious she was, I mentioned Tonya and she was like -- WHERE? Her Tonya? I said, "If you weren't so busy dissing ME, you'd have seen her and YOUR husband. They were counting the pickles in the barrel."
Then it was, well why didn't I come get her? Why didn't I tell her they were going to be there? Like I knew we'd be lucky enough to catch up! So off we went, there was one more stop and then maybe, just maybe, we'd come in fifth I thought. I know, wishful thinking on me part, but ever the optimist we came up to Turners Falls Road where we were to go onto Sunnybrook Farm and count the sheep. Well, strange it was, there was a detour sign on Turners Falls Road where normally we were to go straight down it to the farm, but the detour made you take a left instead and God knows where one would come out. I knew the farm was just around the bend, I could see no construction or problem, so I zoomed on as if there were no detour. Of course, this got the Dragon berating me I was cheating and not obeying the law. For heaven's sakes, I could see everyone else had taken the detour from all the dirt and dust kicked up on that road, but there was no one around, so why not? I could have used a good pair of earplugs for all the carrying on, but guess what? As we rounded the bend there were the sheep. I looked about me, no one about, could this be? I ran out leaving the car plow idling, me driver door open for quick getaway, and quickly counted 24 sheep. Just as I started back to me motor, I could see me own Saturn coming up the other way towards the backside of the farm, they must have taken the detour round about and well, wasn't I the lucky one?
I hooted as I jumped in and started backing up and out the way I came, but the Dragon got hold of me arm and was pulling me to stop the car so she could go talk to her son. I was like hells no, we are FIRST old woman, we are GOING and we are going to WIN this thing! So with her chattering like a magpie, I zoomed meself out as other cars were pulling in from the detour. More hooting from me as I made me turn and started back to the finish. The Dragon was furious with me, she wanted to see how her son and his wife were doing, and I thought it was obvious they weren't doing as well as us, so what's the need? We started arguing and I missed me turn. Cursing, I turned around and started back, I got to the turn just as me brother-in-law made the turn in round the bend. I gunned the car plow and uh oh, it started to sputter at the ill use of the gas petal, it started smoking under the bonnet and I knew damn it, I was about to run out of car plow steam. Me brother-in-law could see this behind me and he started honking the horn and waving at me in glee he was about to pass and he did! I chugged on in his wake and, oh no, there was another car coming up fast behind me. I shook me head in determination and pressed the petal to the metal and with an unexpected roar the car plow lurched hard forward and with the last bit of zoom it had, we made it up the hill and then it died as the other car passed us and we coasted in to third place!
BUT THIRD PLACE! We actually made a showing. I was beside meself with joy, yes R. Linda, I found JOY finally. I got out and hopped around as the Dragon, with some effort, got out of the car plow, looked at me like I had lost me mind and started moving off, but I grabbed her and hopped around with her in me bear hug of an embrace shouting, we sort of won! She finally kicked me in the shin to break the hold and began wiping the cooities off. I was like I don't care, we came in, we actually finished. Then I realised me car plow had died to give me a win. It was the end of me car plow! OH what to do? Me joy lasted a few seconds more before remorse and guilt took me over, but that lasted in less time and joy took me beaming Irish face over again, and I continued the victory dance in spite of the burn holes the Dragon was staring into me shirt, and me bro-in-law came over and we hugged, high-fived and danced around like two besotted fools while the women made like they didn't know either of us. Car two joined in the dance and there were four of us guys lifting the first, second and third place trophies over our heads cheering ourselves before we realised we weren't that alone, there was a crowd of people at the pub across the way who came over to see the idiots hopping around.
The lists were ticked off and we all had our counts correct. I was secretly hoping one of them wouldn't and I'd place or win, but no was all correct. The people applauded us and there was a formal presentation of the trophies and an invitation to lunch at the pub. Of course, I thought the Dragon was all fooded out, but no, now she was the first to get there and sit her plumb self down. Tonya and her da came in fifth, FIFTH do ya hear me? Hahaha! I was thrilled for the rest of the afternoon UNTIL it was time to go on home. The Dragon got in the Saturn with her son and his wife, and Ton and her Da the VW, leaving me to wait for the wrecker to come fetch the car plow.
It was six o'clock, I was sitting by me lonesome cleaning out the glove box looking for a tissue to polish up me trophy when I heard a familiar sound, the clunk of gears and the grinding of brakes made me look up at the wrecker pulling up next to me. Looking down at me was -- you guessed it -- PERCY! Me joy turned to depression within an instant I looked up into that sneering face.
"So, we meet again do we Sully? Same vehicle I see, that monstrosity still attached to the front end, eh? I'm surprised the front end hasn't fallen off, oh wait, it has," and he roared with laughter.
I was pissed. I shook me head, got out and asked him how much this time was it going to cost me to have the car plow towed to me house.
"Why not to the junkyard?"
"Because I need to get the plow off." I sighed in exasperation.
"Uh let's see," he started counting on his fingers and grinning gleefully at the remembrance of me doing the exact same thing, "for you, because you are becoming my number one customer, $100 buckeroos even."
I knew it! Of course it was going to cost me an arm and a leg. It was costing me more than the damn trophy was worth and the realisation of that fact when I got home and was to tell Tonya how much it cost to tow the car plow, well, I would be dead in the water no matter how gently I put it. Reluctantly, I handed up me piece of plastic and heard the zip of the manual machine take the information and good old boy Percy handed the slip of paper down for me to sign. I signed it angrily as he got out and started to set up the car plow to lift up to the truck bed.
I had to ride shotgun with him all the way to me house and listen to his stories about ME, the luge down the driveway and the car plow stuck in the culverts, keys locked in the car, and more unflattering quips, and he was thoroughly amused at me expense. And don't you know, we get the car plow off the truck and the Dragon comes out and invites him in for coffee!
I was like I don't want that man in me house! I want him off me property, him and his sneering face and unflattering quips, GONE! But no, he said he'd love a cup and in he went arm and arm with that old battle axe. I had to endure a silently seething wife, a gloating brother-in-law and his wife, a father-in-law that was twenty questions on how I got a truck plow on a compact car in the first place, a mother-in-law who huffed at me and a part time police officer/tow truck driver, who hates me and takes great pleasure in making me look the butt of all jokes in me own home.
I got to tell ya R. Linda, that is the last time I come up with any bright ideas where the Dragon-in-law has to participate. Done!
Gabe
Copyright © 2010 All rights reserved
