* * * * *
On our way
[The following entries are being written a month after the fact. I have no
excuse, other than laziness and a severe case of procrastination; story of my
life. So, without further ado … ]
Bunny and I were invited to my cousin Nate's wedding on Saturday. I refuse to
fly, not wanting to be treated like the guilty (TSA (Transportation Security
Administration) [1]) sheep (airline industry) that US (United States)
citizens appear to be; instead, we drove to Troy, Michigan [2], just north of
the dazzling city of tomorrow—Detroit [3].
Bunny drove during the daylight hours, then I drove during the night—our goal
was to drive straight through, only stopping for gas and food as required. We
both figured the trip would take around twenty-two hours or so.
Bunny drove until 8:15pm, when we hit Cordele, Georgia [4] and decided to eat
dinner, gas up, and switch driving duties. The last time I was in Cordele was
on December 27^th, 1997. It was a Saturday, exactly half way between
Christmas and New Year's Eve. I was headed towards Atlanta, Georgia [5] to
meet up with some friends to celebrate the New Year when I pulled off I-75
Northbound at exit 101. No sooner did I exit when my car stopped dead. [6],
even though the engine was still running.
I restarted the engine, gunned the gas and went nowhere. I checked behind me,
and with no traffic (remember, it was the weekend between two major
holidays), put the car into reverse. And the car still didn't move. I stopped
the engine, placed everything in the cabin into the trunk, put the car into
neutral, and tried moving the car off the road. It still didn't budge.
I walked a hundred yards or so to the nearest gas station. The attendent said
that everything was pretty much closed, but he would try to get a tow truck
out my way, seeing how my car was stuck in the middle of the road. By the
time I walked back to the car, a police officer had shown up and was running
my plates. I explained the situation to him, and he then turned to the task
of scaring up a tow truck.
Over an hour later, one showed up. A flat bed truck. The police officer drove
off to finish his beat. The tow truck driver then tilted the bed down in
front of my car, hooked up some chains to the front wheels, and proceeded to
pull the car up the bed. The wheels of my car were solidly locked into place
and for a second there, I thought the front axel of the car would be pulled
out.
But no, the car eventually made it onto the bed of the tow truck. He then
drove the car and me to a nearby body shop. I went into the office to call my
friends to have them pick me up, while the tow truck driver and the one
machanic on duty attempted to get my car off the tow truck.
There was the bed, at a 45° angle, chains slacked, and the car still sitting
on the bed. Between the driver and the mechanic, they figured out that the
only way to get the car off the truck was to slide it off, so they slicked
the bed down with oil and the car slid off.
The mechanic told me I could call him in a few days to give him time to
figure out what happened. The tow truck driver then drove me to a nearby
restaurant so I could wait for my friends there.
I'll spare you the details about the trip home (wherein I learned a few hard
lessons about modern financial systems and just how screwed we are as
individuals) but the upshot: the transmission seized up on my car. I could
get a new transmission for $2,500 or a used one for $2,000. There would be a
warranty on the work, but it would have to be serviced by the body shop there
in Cordele, 500 miles from home. The mechanic did know of a student that
needed a car and was willing to pay for the work, but really, could only just
afford the transmission plus a bit more.
Not having the money myself (for the transmission and for travel expenses to
retrieve the car), I sold the car to the Cordele-living student, and went on
to learn a few hard lessons about modern car dealerships and living beyond
one's means.
So my last time in Cordele wasn't all that great. This time, however, the car
survived, and we were able to continue on our way north, with me taking on
driving duties.
[1]
http://www.tsa.gov/
[2]
http://www.troymi.gov/
[3]
http://www.detroitmi.gov/
[4]
http://www.cityofcordele.com/
[5]
http://www.atlantaga.gov/
[6]
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=Cordele,+GA&aq=&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=64.537053,100.371094&vpsrc=6&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=Cordele,+Crisp,+Georgia&ll=31.960023,-83.751722&spn=0.002164,0.003063&t=m&z=19&layer=c&cbll=31.959982,-83.751501&panoid=j71MmpaVpQHunz6gGAslXg&cbp=12,299.4,,0,0
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