Dickidoo was scheduled to fly out to California yesterday evening at 7:25. Key words being 'was scheduled'. Apparently his plane stalled out on the runway and never got the all clear to take off. His trip was rescheduled for this morning and he was sent home with a $200 voucher for future travel, shut up money for the inconvenience. Cool.
That is where the coolness ended... abruptly.
Dickidoo called me to pick him up from the airport. I fired up the Little Blue Go-cart (what I call the Tracer which replaced my pick-up Big Red). 3 miles from the house and maybe 10 miles from the airport the transmission gave out.
All together now.... GRRRRRRRRRRRR!
Our neighbor Jim, who is always bailing us out of trouble, showed up in his truck, picked Rocky and I up, drove to the airport to pick Dickidoo up, dropped us off at the house then went back with Dickidoo to tow the Little Blue Go-cart back.
This morning at o'dark hundred I found myself sitting behind the steering wheel of The Hemi. The Hemi is a huge golden Dodge Ram Crew Cab pick-up that drives like a bulldozer and sounds like a tank. I need a pillow to scooch me forward far enough to reach the clutch.
Yes, that's right. I said 'clutch' (with a shutter... I don't like clutch!).
I lost half a cup of coffee with all the stop and go jerking action going on as I tried to remember how to coordinate my two feet with the three pedals. When I finally got to work there was a voice mail waiting for me on my phone. It was Dickidoo, laughing his sleepy butt off.
Hey Jo, all you need is 2nd, 3rd and 4th, nothing else. You don't need to rev the engine up. You're good at 2000 rpm's and then nothing higher than 3000 rpm's okay. I can hear you revving that engine all the way from the house still. Ha ha! Alright, be safe. Just use 2nd, 3rd and 4th. 2nd, 3rd and 4th. 2nd to start out. You don't need 1st, 1st is for towing and getting stuck in the mud, not for stopping and starting. Its a real low gear, okay? Just remember 2nd, 3rd and 4th. Ha ha, I can still hear you. Alright, be careful. Talk to you later.
I lost track of how many times I stalled out at intersections and stop signs. Kimmie thought it was a hoot, as did the Oompas. I whined at all of the stoplights, clicking my heels and chanting 'There's no place like home', all the while trying to maintain pressure on the clutch and brakes. After getting money from the ATM for Rocky's drum lessons I forgot what I was driving and stopped in front of a big red pick-up truck out of habit. Art's girlfriend interrupted my dream and prevented me from trying to stick the key in the lock. Grudgingly I moved the next lane over and got into The Hemi.
It just took a short ride for the Oompas to believe me when I said that I just don't like driving the Behemoth that is The Hemi. They may have to consider popping motion sickness pills before they ride with me again. I will be so glad when Dickidoo gets home. Hopefully he'll be able to fix the Little Blue Go-cart... or maybe Big Red!
But... before that happens, there's still driving to and from work tomorrow and Sunday.
All together now... GRRRRRRRRRRRR!