Battling the Element(s)

A Texas gal loves her pony. That’s a natural fact. Now, I don’t have a real horse; I don’t even have a Ford “Mustang.” The “pony” to which I refer is my Honda Element. I lovingly “feed” it, “water” it, take it out for exercise, and sometimes I even groom it. I love that car. At least, I did until last night!

I bought a Honda because of it’s reputation for reliability. After driving a Plymouth Voyager, I wanted to get me some of that. My Plymouth, “Christine,” was named for Stephen King’s possessed devil car. She was nothing but one car trouble after another. Her problems started as something mechanical. As I drove down the road, lights flashed on and off inside the car and the automatic door locks clicked on and off. It was eerie and frightening. More frightening than that was that she began to have transmission problems: dying while I was driving 70 mph down the highway (usually when I was halfway across Texas). The bills for that kind of problem will definitely scare you silly! After three (count them 3!) new transmissions, I no longer trusted her, and traded Christine for my Honda.

I figured that this car would last me at least 100 thousand miles. Do y’all know Murphy’s Law? “If things can go wrong, they will.” My friend Marcia thinks otherwise. She believes that if you visualize good things, Murphy will go away. I’m trying to do so, but I can’t see past Murphy.

My husband informed me of another “law”:

The Law of Non-Reciprocal Expectations
“When bad results are expected
bad results will be obtained.
When good results are expected
bad results will be obtained.”

That’s about the size of it around here.

When I booked the one hour library gig in Diboll, Texas several months ago, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Yes, I’d have to drive four hours to get there and four hours back (according to Yahoo’s directions). I didn’t mind the thought of a drive through the lovely East Texas countryside on a hot summer’s day. I love that neck of the woods.

Mother Nature had other plans. I spent SIX excruciating hours driving through pouring rain, with water over parts of the roadway. By the time I reached the library, I was white-knuckled, stiff, sore, had to get to a bathroom, AND my audience was gathered and waiting on me!

Fortunately, they were an excellent group of kids, and I enjoyed my time with them. Just getting to perform for them calmed me down considerably. That always makes it worth the drive. When I was finished, I asked for alternate directions so that I could go home on a major roadway. I don’t like to drive unfamiliar country roads in the dark.

To get to Interstate 45, which leads into Dallas, I had to cut across through a wonderfully wooded area of the East Texas Piney Woods. As the setting sun fell behind the thunderheads, the light created a spectacular view filled with what looked like pink and blue cotton fluff. The trees formed a canopy over the tiny roadway. It was a gorgeous drive, and I was grateful that my trip home would not include rain and would be uneventful. To top it off, every car I passed gave me the Texas Salute (a wave of the forefinger to say, “Howdy, Neighbor!”). I was feeling good about my wonderful world.

Remember Murphy’s Law? Murphy was an optimist.

I stopped in Crockett, Texas, which is about halfway between Podunk and Punyville. Which is to say, it wasn’t near anything at all! I stopped at the only restaurant in town, the Whataburger attached to a gas station. When I came back out to my car, it would start—–but the gear shift would not move! Men in the parking lot stood scratching their heads over the problem. They tried to muscle it into gear. They tried rocking the car. Nothing worked. Ultimately, they said, “Sorry lady, we can’t help.” So, I was left to my own devices.

Have y’all ever tried to find a mechanic in a small town at 6:30 in the evening on the night before a major holiday? Well, I’m here to tell you that you can forget it! I don’t have AAA and I no longer have “Mister Rescue” on my cell phone account (because the one time I needed help, I had to rescue myself!). The toll free number for Honda told me, “Sorry, we are closed.” So did the number for my insurance company. Well folks, there you go.

My only recourse was to call my husband, my knight in shining armor, and ask him to drop everything and drive four hours to come rescue me. I figured we would have to get my car towed back home to be repaired later in the week. THAT was going to cost an arm and a leg. Then, I tried one last time to get my car in gear, AND IT WORKED! Hooray! I was on my way home. But, I didn’t trust the car. With very good reason.

My husband was already south of Dallas, so I told him to meet me in a town along the way to follow me home. My drive up Interstate 45 was perilous in the rain that had started pelting down from the sky again. And, my car was acting strangely. When I finally reached the safety of my husband’s arms, he drove the car, shook his head and said one ugly word: “Transmission.”

Y’all, we drove home at about 45 miles per hour on the interstate with our emergency flashers blinking and my husband fighting that bucking car all the way. The drive that began for me at 10:00 a.m. ended after midnight; and it was all for one hour of work!

Now, Marcia would tell me, “See only the good.” I’m trying to do just that. My husband or I could have had a wreck in the rain. We could have had to tow the car home. It could have died in an even more secluded place or in the middle of the highway. But, none of those things happened. Instead, my husband was there to rescue me. I saw a lot of beautiful scenery in my brief moments of bliss. I got to see some fireworks exploding in the air on the drive home. The Dallas skyline is beautiful at night. And, I had a wonderful conversation with an old man in Crockett while I waited. [Our Texas language is so much fun. He turned to me and asked, "Joo see allem purdy lil flars ovair?" Say it out loud and you can translate. "Did you see all them pretty little flowers over there?" Just like a Native Daughter of Texas, I said, "Yessir, ems a purdy sight, ain't they?"]

Now, my little pony sits plaintively in the driveway waiting for the holiday to end so I can take her to the transmission doctor. I’m not at all happy to be without my wheels. I feel somewhat bereft and very trapped! I’m angry enough at her to just want to shoot her and put her out of her misery. But, I’ve never even named her! Y’all help me out here, and name that little Honda Element for me, so I have something to put on her tombstone. Give her a name, and I’ll send you a prize. When I bury her, I’ll send you her gas cap!

Related posts:

1. Good Luck or Good People?
2. My Heavy Foot Leaves A Big Carbon Footprint
3. Jonesing for Blogging
4. Revenge is Sweet, Prevention Sweeter
5. A Ditty For Idiot Drivers

Tagged as: humor