Something inside you is feeling like I do (worn out - Ed.)
We've said all there is to say.
BABY! Break down!
~ Tom Petty and the Destroyers
Break down? Yeah, it's the Further Adventures of Betsy. I don't know if she loves me. Break down, it's all right. (It's all riiiiiiiight.)
Dale's ol' truck and I have a psychic bond. Remember how I planned her last breakdown? This time, I made a mental promise to stop at the Murphysboro Motomart for gas and and oil check. When I changed my mind, she died in the Murphysboro intersection next to the Motomart.
But she perked back up again and we finished our haulage. After reading this piece, submitted by alert reader Nicole, I woke up Saturday thinking, "Ahhhhh. It's 100 degrees Fahrenheit, and THE KIDS AREN'T MOVING!"
Silly me. They have strewn, or maybe strewed, their belongings across so much of Southern Illinois that there's ALWAYS something to be moved - in this case, a washing machine, on loan to a friend who's moving in with another friend, so the washer needs to go back into storage. Could I bring the truck? (Needless to say, the truck - whose tailpipe has rusted off and whose rear bumper is held up with a bungee cord - is not air conditioned.)
But the trip was postponed until Sunday, which turned out to be a lovely, breezy, 85-degree day, perfect for a drive through Little Egypt. Stalling out next to the Motomart was a minor inconvenience, but I was sort of fearful of the drive home - which took place about three hours later than I had intended, into the setting sun and deepening dusk.
Again, I was picking up Betsy's vibes. By the time it got good and dark, her instrument panel was dimming, and I had to flip the brights on to have any illumination ahead of me.
I was very lucky. We made it to a brightly lit Casey's in a booming burg a scant 30 miles from home, where it was possible to get both a cellphone signal and a tow truck. And my AAA rep said I get 100 miles of towing free - so I just rode all the way home in the tow truck.
It was a REALLY COOL TRUCK, one of those tilting flatbed affairs, and I watched with interest as he winched 'er up and chained 'er down. The driver had a bad cold, which he really wanted to share with me (cover your mouth when you cough!), and the assault on my mucus membranes wasn't enough - he turned on country music to offend my sensitive aural membranes too.
Oh well. He did a nice job dropping the truck in my driveway, out of the way of the garage, and then cheerfully took his cold and his country music elsewhere. And I'll get an alternator someday.
It's "Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers" :-)
...but they both mean the same thing, yes no?
if you break my heart, I am destroyed...
Posted by: no one you know | August 10, 2009 at 07:26 PM