22 February 2010
272
R. Linda:
I watched The Amazing Race last night on the telly, and I have a story to tell. The show brought back some very painful memories of last summer. Up north of us is this small town where the economic problems we are having in this country hit harder than most. The town decided to raise some money over the summer to keep the Kindergarten open. The place land-wise is large, with not many people, so plenty of beautiful scenery, old dirt roads that twist and turn and historical markers spread throughout, to make it interesting. Well, what better idea thought the town council than to hold an Amazing Race of their own. It was really an old-fashioned road rally and the word was put out it was for a good cause, so pay $20.00 a car with two people, and if you arrived first with a list of the correct answers to all the things you had to find, you win the first annual trophy. Of course, how something can be a first-annual trophy is beyond yours truly when it hasn't happened yet. So this be the first race, or am I missing something here with the annual bit?
Me wife's parents were up with one of her brothers and his wife. Now me home be not big so for all of us to be squeezed inside it makes for too close quarters and we already know me and the dragon-in-law do not want to be that close. Ever. So upon reading the local rag, I see this advert and think to meself, why yes, just the thing, break the visit up, we'll all go sign up and it will be one day of freedom for ME!
I was enthusiastic I was, you'd be proud I was getting all excited and Ton's bro was all for things like this and so was the daddy-in-law, until it was pointed out by the spoiler of good times, the Dragon, that we only had two cars. Well, no not exactly there was the third car, the car plow. Who'd ride in that Tonya asked, well, I waited for volunteers and no one did, and I thought the last person who'd want to ride in that was the Dragon, and this ensured me of being dragon-free, and I knew there would be no race unless I drove the car plow. I bit the bullet and Tonya was not for driving shotgun with me, so me enterprising father-in-law said we'd draw straws and whoever got the shortest straws would be Team Car Plow, the the next two slightly longer straws would be Team Beetle, and the longest straws, Team Saturn. I thought that was a dumb idea, but now there be a chance I'd not be driving the car plow, and not such a dumb idea after all. I kept me fingers crossed behind me back that it would be Dragon driving the car plow.
So the straws were pulled and brother got me Saturn ride with his wife, and the daddy-in-law and Tonya got the Beetle and damn it, I got the Dragon who was just as thrilled about the choice as I was, not very. I really didn't want to race now that me navigator was Dragon Lady AND we would be driving the car plow! Everyone but us was excited and calling to make reservations. Yea.
The day came around, a nice sunny one. Brother and wife roar off in the Saturn down the drive and Daddy and Tonya right behind in the Bug. And there I was chugging out of the shed and the Dragon was standing there waiting, arms crossed over her chest, shaking her head.
"Aren't you going to take that big snow plow off? Looks ridiculous. It is the middle of the summer."
Well, no I wasn't taking it off, it was hell to get on and if I did that, I'd never get it back on, and by the time I did get it off, the race would be over. I told her that and she got in reluctantly clucking her tongue the whole time.
"My God, the least you could do is clean the inside," she huffed, wiping leftover doughnut crumbs on the floor.
"It's not a car we use," I muttered starting down the gravel drive.
The car plow sputtered, it coughed like an old man who had smoked too many cigars, it steamed under the hood and it shook like a wet dog, and SHE sat there, face looking like The Sorting Hat from the Harry Potter flicks, old, leathery, disagreeable, and decidedly thinking how to have it in for yours truly. As for me, I was terrified, yes, I would be spending the entire day with HER, the woman who hated me, had stolen me green blankie, reduced me to servant status in me own home, and now I was the bleeding idiot who had put a truck plow on a teensy-weensy little car and expected to be given praise for the idea. Right, I could stand there until I turned green and moldy and then started to disintegrate into dust before SHE'D praise me on any of me enterprising ideas and that might not happen at all. Poof, dust I'd be.
We were the last to arrive and everyone else was already out gathering the answers to the list of clues they were given. There were a lot of people up on the green, so when we pulled up it was the usual reaction, everyone stopped what they were doing, and a lot of people elbowed those next to them to turn round and see the spectacle chugging up the road. There were snickers and open gewgaws and pointing, and generally open-mouth confusion as to how it could be that big plow was attached to that itty-bitty, teeny-tiny, teensy-weensy little vehicle. Yup.
The Dragon was sliding down under the dashboard as I pulled up, so it looked like I was the only fool in the car plow.
"Don't you dare let them see me, you imbecile, pull up over there and park it! YOU get out, get the list and then let's boogy out of here if that's even possible in this broken-down junk mobile." She hissed this at me like a snake. I drove to the side as instructed, me head in palsy shakes as I listened to her, me expression like I was smelling something foul. I got out (wanting so to leave the door open so she'd be seen crouching under the dash, but I didn't), went over to the judge's table, got me instructions, and a lot of very strange looks, and then I threw me chest out, me shoulders back and walked with determination to the car plow.
Usually, I don't get any questions about the car plow at first. It takes some time to sink in what one is seeing and it isn't until a second appearance that people gather around and then the questions are fired at me innocent self, and by the time they are done, I feel much like Dr. Frankenstein, as if I had created a terrible monster and was a disgrace to humanity and General Motors, not necessarily in that order either. Oh the shame of it, you just don't know.
I pulled off to mock shouts of "Good luck, you'll need it in that thing," and "Stay safe, if you need help give us a call," and me personal fav, "Hahahaha!"
We pulled off about a mile down the road before the Dragon decided to come up for air and actually read the instructions. But not without complaining that the carbon monoxide down on the floor was dreadful smelling. How can you smell an odourless gas? I wanted to shake her, but I controlled me urge and asked her to not give me a critique of the car, I got it, she hated it, just tell me what the first clue was.
"Settle down Charlie, I need my reading glasses."
CHARLIE? Oh, I could have hit her one, she knows me name isn't Charlie, but well, why call me anything that has a "good" connotation to it? Charlie, like in good time, or Charlie, like in Sheen, bad boy alcoholic wife beater, or Charlie, like in Smith, bad guy outlaw and hombre, or more like the Charlie she liked comparing me unfavourably to the most, Manson, like in Helter Skelter. And let's not forget those glasses, R. Linda, what pair of the three were we putting on our sour face this time? I had no clue, BUT I should have known better because the first pair whipped out were the ones without the binoculars (I be sniggering here meself on that one), no, can't see the "little bitty print" with those, so pair number two came whipping out and no, no, wrong again, "silly me" and finally the bifocals are on and so is she. On, about me driving on a bumpy dirt road and can't I control the shaking of "this old jalopy" because it is "rattling my brains, I can't see for it making the print jump and oh my gravy, my insides are being shaken like I'm in an old blender."
I wanted to shout, WHAT BRAINS, then AN OLD BLENDER? What the feck? But you'd be proud, I refrained, I instead, began to bite me tongue until I could taste the blood. It was unpleasant, but it kept me from letting the words I wanted so bad to rip her up with from tumbling out. So, I stopped and the brakes on the car plow are like an instant stop you need to wear your seatbelt at all times for fear of shooting through the windscreen. So of course that got me this: "Are you purposely trying to give me whiplash?"
Oh if only.
So I sat there, the engine idling waiting for her to read me the first clue, BUT in true Dragon form that would be too easy, instead, she asked me what the awful noise was and she was shifting in her seat looking out the windows for it.
"It's the engine. It clunks." I said.
She stopped her looking and gazed at me over her glasses that had slid down her nose in true Dragon fashion.
"An old clunker, huh Charlie?" She snorts.
I wanted to bang me head on the stirring column, but again, I chewed on me near-frayed tongue instead.
"Let me see here, it says, it says . . . I think it says . . . "
That was it, I tore it from her grasp and spread the sheet out on me stirring wheel and read aloud, "IT SAYS, go to Turners Road and find Turners Pond Fish Shack. Count the number of windows that are boarded up."
I didn't look at her, no I knew better, I could feel the heat ray stare so there was nothing to do, but put the sheet between us, throw the car plow in gear and look straight ahead. Off we lurched and her hand flew to her head as if to keep her brains from falling out (oh if only), into a gentle putter down the road, the vibration so hard it was good I didn't have vibrating seats because to try to talk would have been a jumbled mess of vibrated vowels, adjectives and whatever else we might have to say to each other. The worse was never chew gum in the car plow for the vibration, and the thought of offering her some did float into me mind, but I did behave and did not offer.
I pulled up to the fish shack and got out because we already knew she wasn't going to, and I walked around the shack counting the boarded-up windows. Well, seems the car plow wanted to count the fish in the pond because as I rounded the backside of the shack I heard shouting, "CHARLIE! GET BACK HERE QUICKLY, THIS MONSTROSITY IS TRYING TO DROWN ME IN THE POND! HELP, HELP!"
For a split second, I wanted to stand there and laugh quietly to meself, and not move a muscle, me excuse was she was calling for someone named Charlie and well, I didn't know. But I didn't, I ran around and sure enough, the plow was vibrating its way into the water about to plunge the engine into two feet of the wet stuff. I had left the door open so was easy (except for banging me head on the door top) to jump in and throw the thing into reverse and get out before it sank.
She took the sheet of paper and started hitting me about the head and shoulders, "What the hell is wrong with you! You leave a car in drive, get out and," she was pointing furiously at the water, "are you that stupid?"
I sat there for a moment picturing the roof of the car noticeable in the water, the steam from the Dragon heating up the pond, the fish jumping about from the hot steam . . . ah yes it was a wonderful image. However, I was not a happy man, me accidentally on purpose (okay it wasn't on purpose consciously) attempt on the Dragon's life didn't work. Oh well, try again later. I gave a croaky voiced, "I bad, I be sorry," and occupied the ranting and raving time studying the next clue. Without a word to her, as she continued to berate me, I made me way to the next stop.
To be continued. I be sorry, I have to go beat me head against a wall for a few minutes at the memory.
Gabe
Copyright © 2010 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
I watched The Amazing Race last night on the telly, and I have a story to tell. The show brought back some very painful memories of last summer. Up north of us is this small town where the economic problems we are having in this country hit harder than most. The town decided to raise some money over the summer to keep the Kindergarten open. The place land-wise is large, with not many people, so plenty of beautiful scenery, old dirt roads that twist and turn and historical markers spread throughout, to make it interesting. Well, what better idea thought the town council than to hold an Amazing Race of their own. It was really an old-fashioned road rally and the word was put out it was for a good cause, so pay $20.00 a car with two people, and if you arrived first with a list of the correct answers to all the things you had to find, you win the first annual trophy. Of course, how something can be a first-annual trophy is beyond yours truly when it hasn't happened yet. So this be the first race, or am I missing something here with the annual bit?
Me wife's parents were up with one of her brothers and his wife. Now me home be not big so for all of us to be squeezed inside it makes for too close quarters and we already know me and the dragon-in-law do not want to be that close. Ever. So upon reading the local rag, I see this advert and think to meself, why yes, just the thing, break the visit up, we'll all go sign up and it will be one day of freedom for ME!
I was enthusiastic I was, you'd be proud I was getting all excited and Ton's bro was all for things like this and so was the daddy-in-law, until it was pointed out by the spoiler of good times, the Dragon, that we only had two cars. Well, no not exactly there was the third car, the car plow. Who'd ride in that Tonya asked, well, I waited for volunteers and no one did, and I thought the last person who'd want to ride in that was the Dragon, and this ensured me of being dragon-free, and I knew there would be no race unless I drove the car plow. I bit the bullet and Tonya was not for driving shotgun with me, so me enterprising father-in-law said we'd draw straws and whoever got the shortest straws would be Team Car Plow, the the next two slightly longer straws would be Team Beetle, and the longest straws, Team Saturn. I thought that was a dumb idea, but now there be a chance I'd not be driving the car plow, and not such a dumb idea after all. I kept me fingers crossed behind me back that it would be Dragon driving the car plow.
So the straws were pulled and brother got me Saturn ride with his wife, and the daddy-in-law and Tonya got the Beetle and damn it, I got the Dragon who was just as thrilled about the choice as I was, not very. I really didn't want to race now that me navigator was Dragon Lady AND we would be driving the car plow! Everyone but us was excited and calling to make reservations. Yea.
The day came around, a nice sunny one. Brother and wife roar off in the Saturn down the drive and Daddy and Tonya right behind in the Bug. And there I was chugging out of the shed and the Dragon was standing there waiting, arms crossed over her chest, shaking her head.
"Aren't you going to take that big snow plow off? Looks ridiculous. It is the middle of the summer."
Well, no I wasn't taking it off, it was hell to get on and if I did that, I'd never get it back on, and by the time I did get it off, the race would be over. I told her that and she got in reluctantly clucking her tongue the whole time.
"My God, the least you could do is clean the inside," she huffed, wiping leftover doughnut crumbs on the floor.
"It's not a car we use," I muttered starting down the gravel drive.
The car plow sputtered, it coughed like an old man who had smoked too many cigars, it steamed under the hood and it shook like a wet dog, and SHE sat there, face looking like The Sorting Hat from the Harry Potter flicks, old, leathery, disagreeable, and decidedly thinking how to have it in for yours truly. As for me, I was terrified, yes, I would be spending the entire day with HER, the woman who hated me, had stolen me green blankie, reduced me to servant status in me own home, and now I was the bleeding idiot who had put a truck plow on a teensy-weensy little car and expected to be given praise for the idea. Right, I could stand there until I turned green and moldy and then started to disintegrate into dust before SHE'D praise me on any of me enterprising ideas and that might not happen at all. Poof, dust I'd be.
We were the last to arrive and everyone else was already out gathering the answers to the list of clues they were given. There were a lot of people up on the green, so when we pulled up it was the usual reaction, everyone stopped what they were doing, and a lot of people elbowed those next to them to turn round and see the spectacle chugging up the road. There were snickers and open gewgaws and pointing, and generally open-mouth confusion as to how it could be that big plow was attached to that itty-bitty, teeny-tiny, teensy-weensy little vehicle. Yup.
The Dragon was sliding down under the dashboard as I pulled up, so it looked like I was the only fool in the car plow.
"Don't you dare let them see me, you imbecile, pull up over there and park it! YOU get out, get the list and then let's boogy out of here if that's even possible in this broken-down junk mobile." She hissed this at me like a snake. I drove to the side as instructed, me head in palsy shakes as I listened to her, me expression like I was smelling something foul. I got out (wanting so to leave the door open so she'd be seen crouching under the dash, but I didn't), went over to the judge's table, got me instructions, and a lot of very strange looks, and then I threw me chest out, me shoulders back and walked with determination to the car plow.
Usually, I don't get any questions about the car plow at first. It takes some time to sink in what one is seeing and it isn't until a second appearance that people gather around and then the questions are fired at me innocent self, and by the time they are done, I feel much like Dr. Frankenstein, as if I had created a terrible monster and was a disgrace to humanity and General Motors, not necessarily in that order either. Oh the shame of it, you just don't know.
I pulled off to mock shouts of "Good luck, you'll need it in that thing," and "Stay safe, if you need help give us a call," and me personal fav, "Hahahaha!"
We pulled off about a mile down the road before the Dragon decided to come up for air and actually read the instructions. But not without complaining that the carbon monoxide down on the floor was dreadful smelling. How can you smell an odourless gas? I wanted to shake her, but I controlled me urge and asked her to not give me a critique of the car, I got it, she hated it, just tell me what the first clue was.
"Settle down Charlie, I need my reading glasses."
CHARLIE? Oh, I could have hit her one, she knows me name isn't Charlie, but well, why call me anything that has a "good" connotation to it? Charlie, like in good time, or Charlie, like in Sheen, bad boy alcoholic wife beater, or Charlie, like in Smith, bad guy outlaw and hombre, or more like the Charlie she liked comparing me unfavourably to the most, Manson, like in Helter Skelter. And let's not forget those glasses, R. Linda, what pair of the three were we putting on our sour face this time? I had no clue, BUT I should have known better because the first pair whipped out were the ones without the binoculars (I be sniggering here meself on that one), no, can't see the "little bitty print" with those, so pair number two came whipping out and no, no, wrong again, "silly me" and finally the bifocals are on and so is she. On, about me driving on a bumpy dirt road and can't I control the shaking of "this old jalopy" because it is "rattling my brains, I can't see for it making the print jump and oh my gravy, my insides are being shaken like I'm in an old blender."
I wanted to shout, WHAT BRAINS, then AN OLD BLENDER? What the feck? But you'd be proud, I refrained, I instead, began to bite me tongue until I could taste the blood. It was unpleasant, but it kept me from letting the words I wanted so bad to rip her up with from tumbling out. So, I stopped and the brakes on the car plow are like an instant stop you need to wear your seatbelt at all times for fear of shooting through the windscreen. So of course that got me this: "Are you purposely trying to give me whiplash?"
Oh if only.
So I sat there, the engine idling waiting for her to read me the first clue, BUT in true Dragon form that would be too easy, instead, she asked me what the awful noise was and she was shifting in her seat looking out the windows for it.
"It's the engine. It clunks." I said.
She stopped her looking and gazed at me over her glasses that had slid down her nose in true Dragon fashion.
"An old clunker, huh Charlie?" She snorts.
I wanted to bang me head on the stirring column, but again, I chewed on me near-frayed tongue instead.
"Let me see here, it says, it says . . . I think it says . . . "
That was it, I tore it from her grasp and spread the sheet out on me stirring wheel and read aloud, "IT SAYS, go to Turners Road and find Turners Pond Fish Shack. Count the number of windows that are boarded up."
I didn't look at her, no I knew better, I could feel the heat ray stare so there was nothing to do, but put the sheet between us, throw the car plow in gear and look straight ahead. Off we lurched and her hand flew to her head as if to keep her brains from falling out (oh if only), into a gentle putter down the road, the vibration so hard it was good I didn't have vibrating seats because to try to talk would have been a jumbled mess of vibrated vowels, adjectives and whatever else we might have to say to each other. The worse was never chew gum in the car plow for the vibration, and the thought of offering her some did float into me mind, but I did behave and did not offer.
I pulled up to the fish shack and got out because we already knew she wasn't going to, and I walked around the shack counting the boarded-up windows. Well, seems the car plow wanted to count the fish in the pond because as I rounded the backside of the shack I heard shouting, "CHARLIE! GET BACK HERE QUICKLY, THIS MONSTROSITY IS TRYING TO DROWN ME IN THE POND! HELP, HELP!"
For a split second, I wanted to stand there and laugh quietly to meself, and not move a muscle, me excuse was she was calling for someone named Charlie and well, I didn't know. But I didn't, I ran around and sure enough, the plow was vibrating its way into the water about to plunge the engine into two feet of the wet stuff. I had left the door open so was easy (except for banging me head on the door top) to jump in and throw the thing into reverse and get out before it sank.
She took the sheet of paper and started hitting me about the head and shoulders, "What the hell is wrong with you! You leave a car in drive, get out and," she was pointing furiously at the water, "are you that stupid?"
I sat there for a moment picturing the roof of the car noticeable in the water, the steam from the Dragon heating up the pond, the fish jumping about from the hot steam . . . ah yes it was a wonderful image. However, I was not a happy man, me accidentally on purpose (okay it wasn't on purpose consciously) attempt on the Dragon's life didn't work. Oh well, try again later. I gave a croaky voiced, "I bad, I be sorry," and occupied the ranting and raving time studying the next clue. Without a word to her, as she continued to berate me, I made me way to the next stop.
To be continued. I be sorry, I have to go beat me head against a wall for a few minutes at the memory.
Gabe
Copyright © 2010 All rights reserved
