Canadian Buffoon's DISmeet vacation - 09/14 - Bowled Over

[pkondz]

Tag you're it.

Right back atcha.

 

[pkondz]

@pkondz did you see this wicked Indy crash at Pocono today? http://www.foxnews.com/sports/2018/...kens-frightening-crash-halts-pocono-race.html

Yes I did.
I haven't seen the rest
of the race, but I did see that.

From what I've heard,
broken ankles, arm
and possible vertebrae.
And with that...

Dixon suffered a very similar
crash last year and walked
away without a scratch.
In 2011, Dan Wheldon had
an almost exact same crash
and died.

So... depending on your
point of view,
he was either very lucky
or very unfortunate.

Either way, glad he's alive.

 

[Kiotzu]

Sounds really promising!

Turns out, I don't think it was. I do have an actual job offer, but the job doesn't start until October. I will most likely just move furniture for the month since I already quit lululemon.

Really!
What kind of elective was that?

It was focused on the events leading up to WWII, WWII, and the fall-out(until present day) from WWII

Ugh. I know.

Maybe they will upgrade you to an AP!

Some of them are even factual!

Those are the best kind.

And yet... it's not even
half as long as modern
missile subs.

Wow....

Really! Cool!
My company just launched
our sixth payload with Space X.
One more to go.

That is exciting! Sneak on the next one!

Pretty much.

Would you go if offered a chance?

Everyone stops at the model
railway in Germany, too.

Doesn't surprise me at all.

Yep. The world ain't flat, kids.

Apparently this is an actual thing that kids believe...

I can see how that would happen, then.
I don't watch it much anymore.
But on occasion.

Me neither but that might be because we cut the cable cord. On to your next update.

 

[Kiotzu]

Hmmm.... not exactly promising,
is it?

It's promising something, I just don't think its the same thing you are looking for.

Stop cheering.
Didn't you notice the parentheses?
It didn't happen.
You'll have to keep dreaming.
And hoping.

A boy can dream can't he. I am just kidding! I promise!

I did know that species!
Cat! As in "catfish".

Don't worry, I didn't get it either.

"Murphle fang donner, hehm."
I had no clue what he'd said to me.
I'm pretty sure he thought
it was English, but...

It's either the water or the kett, something is dulling their mind. Simpletons I say.

 

[Kiotzu]

I had
bagged my third
poker chip of the day.
Quick and easy.

So how many do you have in total?

I mean, come on.
Why else would I be here?
Are you not paying attention????

What is this a Disney board or a Japanese Garden board? I jest I jest!

This is a lovely shot.

The carefully placed
elements within the sand
or gravel are meant to
be seen as islands.

We went to our local Japanese garden and I witnessed a mom let her kid run around in the sand and I saw him throwing a couple of rocks around. Staff was horrified.

This is very cool! I am trying to imagine what it sounds like.

I went from 1,600 miles
to 1,700 miles....
to 3,400 miles.

Just a casual 3,400 miles.

Bad Daddy's Burger Bar.
With a name like that,
I wasn't going to say no!

I'm never one to say no to a burger.

Oh wow, I'm hungry now.

That may have been
one of the best burgers
I've ever had.
Holy crap was it good.

If you are looking for a good burger and you are ever in Bermuda, the Swizzle Inn. Best burger I have ever had. Period. Point blank.

I was going to be beaten,
robbed and left for dead
in the wilds of North Carolina;

I am glad this is not the turn the story took.

You actually have to sign
a waiver before they'll
serve it to you.

We have a wing that is so hot you have to sign to eat it!

And best of all.... no blood or fur.
I have to admit that in the split
second before I struck, I had
thought that the crate was empty.
Now I was fairly certain.

This is what I was worried about. I am glad you didn't have to deal with that.

If you're interested in me popping by
and saying hello, let me know.

Okay, so it is a little bit of a detour but you should be able to swing it on that drive. From what I can tell anyway. Vancouver! Just slightly out of the way I swear.

 

[pkondz]

Turns out, I don't think it was. I do have an actual job offer, but the job doesn't start until October. I will most likely just move furniture for the month since I already quit lululemon.

Will you take it in the fall then?
Or will you be back in school, so... no?

It was focused on the events leading up to WWII, WWII, and the fall-out(until present day) from WWII

Ah! Okay, makes sense now.

Maybe they will upgrade you to an AP!

It's the very least that I deserve.

That is exciting! Sneak on the next one!

Yeah!


Wait...... with spacesuit... with air?

Would you go if offered a chance?

To another planet?
Well.... I will assume you mean Mars,
since there is even less of a likelyhood
of us getting anywhere else in my lifetime.
(Barring fundamental shifts in our
perception of physics, anyways.)

Hmmm.... I'm getting a bit old
to be a candidate
and I think there might be a few
people who would miss me
if I made that trip.

But....
One way? See above.
Round trip?
If the time involved is say...
less than two years?
Possibly.
Can I bring a friend?
Less than a year?
Probably.

Apparently this is an actual thing that kids believe...

Apparently kids are dumb
as doorknobs.

 

[pkondz]

It's promising something, I just don't think its the same thing you are looking for.

Well... poop.

A boy can dream can't he. I am just kidding! I promise!

Hey!

Don't worry, I didn't get it either.

Another Canadian?
No chance.

It's either the water or the kett, something is dulling their mind. Simpletons I say.

Well... I wouldn't go that far.
Just their southern twang, I guess.

 

[pkondz]

So how many do you have in total?

Darn... I'm at work so
can't count and I don't
remember for sure...

But... 97, I believe.

What is this a Disney board or a Japanese Garden board? I jest I jest!

Oh! "Jest"!
Sorry. I thought you said "Joust".

This is a lovely shot.

Thanks!

We went to our local Japanese garden and I witnessed a mom let her kid run around in the sand and I saw him throwing a couple of rocks around. Staff was horrified.

Some places would make
you pay a fine for that.
(No. Not kidding.)

This is very cool! I am trying to imagine what it sounds like.

I love deeper sounding bells.
Little high pitched ones
just annoy me.

Just a casual 3,400 miles.

Casual is the only
way to do 3,400 miles.

I'm never one to say no to a burger.

Right????

Oh wow, I'm hungry now.

That menu has that affect on me too.

If you are looking for a good burger and you are ever in Bermuda, the Swizzle Inn. Best burger I have ever had. Period. Point blank.

No idea if I'll ever go...
But thanks for the tip!

I am glad this is not the turn the story took.

There wouldn't be a story
if that's the turn it took!

We have a wing that is so hot you have to sign to eat it!

I've had some of those.
That's when I realized
that eating overly hot foods...

Was stupid.

This is what I was worried about. I am glad you didn't have to deal with that.

Yeah... me too!

Okay, so it is a little bit of a detour but you should be able to swing it on that drive. From what I can tell anyway. Vancouver! Just slightly out of the way I swear.

Well, geez. I was just there last month,
what more do ya want??

 

[irene_dsc]

I’m not entirely sure why Google maps zigged instead of zagged. Maybe there was an accident or traffic or a road closure that day. Going through Indy is actually 5 minutes quicker.

I do believe I-65 is closed in downtown Indy for a longterm construction project. We had to go around when we drove to Columbus, OH earlier this summer. They had a huge amount of signs warning everyone, however! I get to do the same thing tomorrow, but this time heading for Nashville. Yet more Pokemon travel...this time for Worlds.

 

[thumper*]

If you are looking for a good burger and you are ever in Bermuda, the Swizzle Inn. Best burger I have ever had. Period. Point blank.

LOL I have friends that vacation in Bermuda 2 weeks every July, they always visit Swizzle Inn. My friend makes a mean Rum Swizzle OH YUM my mouths watering now.

I do believe I-65 is closed in downtown Indy for a longterm construction project. We had to go around when we drove to Columbus, OH earlier this summer. They had a huge amount of signs warning everyone, however! I get to do the same thing tomorrow, but this time heading for Nashville. Yet more Pokemon travel...this time for Worlds.

yes I65 south bound was closed for about a month, but it is now open. Of course we now have closures starting in September for I 465 East bound near I 70. Should open back up on or near Sept 24'th. Go to www.IN.gov for details.

 

[pkondz]

I do believe I-65 is closed in downtown Indy for a longterm construction project. We had to go around when we drove to Columbus, OH earlier this summer. They had a huge amount of signs warning everyone, however!

I saw from Glenda's post that
it's not closed now
(But others soon.)

But...

I first read that as if
you were talking
old-timey speak.

"We had to go around when we drove to Columbus, ohhhh, earlier this summer I reckon'."

I get to do the same thing tomorrow, but this time heading for Nashville. Yet more Pokemon travel...this time for Worlds.

Interestingly enough,
my next chapter will
take me to Nashville.

Was wondering if the
Pokémon games were
still going on.

Worlds, no less!

Let us know what happens.

 

[pkondz]

yes I65 south bound was closed for about a month, but it is now open. Of course we now have closures starting in September for I 465 East bound near I 70. Should open back up on or near Sept 24'th.

I should be safe then.

Safe-er.

 

[juniorbugman]

Yes I did.
I haven't seen the rest
of the race, but I did see that.

From what I've heard,
broken ankles, arm
and possible vertebrae.
And with that...

Oh my goodness wasn't that a really bad crash. I am glad he is on the way to recovery but they still haven't said how bad the spinal injury is.
So they have created a special get well sticker for Wickens and the Nascar and Indy Guys are going to put it on their cars - get well Wickens.
I am planning on buying mine and picking it up next week. The money raised will be going to Sam Schmidts Conquer Paralysis Now charity.

 

[vamassey1]

Recommendations for NO?

I would need to check with Michelle. She's done more dinning in New Orleans than I. The food in NO is different than here. Louisiana has different sections within the state. In the northern part it's more like the "deep south". The lower middle(below Alexandria), southwestern (Lake Charles), south central (Lafayette) and Baton Rouge have a Cajun influence. New Orleans has a Creole influence. The biggest difference being a brown roux base in Cajun food and a red or tomato roux base in Creole. I was brought up with an influence of North Louisiana (my Mom) and Cajun (my Dad). Daddy spoke Cajun French and didn't learn English until he went to school. He was ridiculed for this so he wouldn't teach us French. That being said there is lots of good food to be had in New Orleans.

 

[GoofyIsAsGoofyDoes]

"Everything's good. We're all happy campers...
What? My tea went up by a penny! Revolt!!!!!"

Actually, the thing that directly caused the “party” was when Parliament lowered the tax applied to tea imported by the East India Company (because that made it cheaper than the Dutch tea that most of the “partiers” were smuggling into the colonies and cut into their profits).

What if the facts
are the good story?

They often are, but not always one that is to everyone’s liking.

From what I've read... yes.
(Actual hard cover books, too!)

Oooooo…
Do they still make those?

Yep. I think you and I
would get along juuuuust fine.
If we meet, ask me about
the high school radiator
in the vestibule.

Old radiators are nothing short of instant xylophones

I never said I was normal.
Normal is overrated.

And just who is it that gets to decide what’s normal, anyway?

Hmmm... this is good intel.
Now I want a Mississippi Tea.
I'd be curious to see if it's
as sweet (or sweeter)
than what we have up here.

Your mileage may vary, but this has been my experience…

You keep saying this...
I'm starting to worry a might.

Always best to keep your wits about you down this way.
Things have been known to escalate…
Quickly…


And remember, pride overrules logic.
(and truth for that matter)

More of a fringe society?

I live in a state that resembles a rug with a smallish center area and a whole lot of fringe.


Lots and lots of fringe…

"north"

Just a matter of perspective…

I believe your word(s) is:
"Rassa Frassa fram bassal crushlamochree frabble-gribbin' malaforpin buzzle-whizzin razzle-frangin forplebangin... dingblang stone soaking fuzzle whizzin'…"

It’s my true medium…

(I’ve just been suppressing it where ever possible since mid-1995)

Oh? Flying rain gutters!!


Do tell.

At least no one got hurt , but it’s the image of the moment of impact that sticks in my mind.
(and may I recommend that everyone else just skip this part of the film)


A while back I was traveling with my wife’s family up to Baltimore to visit with some other family members. My sister-in-law and mother-in-law were in one car and we were generally leading the way in a separate car most of the trip.

When we got on the Beltway in Washington DC however, I got caught behind some fool in one lane and sis – being in the next lane over at the time - shot past followed in turn by a work truck that had an over-cab pipe-rack built onto it. Said rack was loaded up with a sizable batch of right long and skinny cardboard boxes. I noticed from the logo that it was a roofer’s truck and figured that they must have been rain gutters since roofers didn’t have much use for piping (turns out my assessment was correct).

Now this truck was moving at a good clip, and just as I got myself extricated from my own personal traffic jam and fell back in line behind them, the roofers had made an aggressive maneuver or two which got them around sis quicker than Mario Andretti with an open inside lane (do believe they were late for an appointment of some type, as they were hoofin’ it).

Apparently, however… The fellas in the truck either hadn’t thought to tie down their load, or had previously failed basic knot tying 101, because it was just at that moment when those long boxes started rising up from the front of the rack and then the whole load went simultaneously airborne.

Everything went into cinematic slow-motion at that point. I got on the breaks right quick and was successful in keeping astern of the melee, but the boxes all turned graceful summersaults in midair and then descended upon the cars in front of me like arrows shot downward from the parapets. As they began to strike home each shaft exploded in a grand chrysanthemum plum of shards and fragments that best resembled fireworks over Cinderella’s Castle (and that‘s the particular image which is ingrained so indelibly in my mind). It was both a terrifying and spectacular display of carnage.

On the upside, none of the vehicles struck in the collective five lanes of traffic lost control and we all were able to get pulled over to the side of the highway and stopped without too much additional hoopla (though the same could not be said for the traffic now backing up on I-495 for the next couple hours). On the down side, damage was extensive. Two or three of the missiles had struck my MIL’s big Mercury right at the spot where the roof meets the windshield. The safety-glass was completely shattered in a pattern that resembled a monochromatic mosaic, but as designed, remained intact. Better yet, none of the gutters or shards had penetrated into the cabin (a scary thought to be sure). The rest of the day was devoted to police statements, calls to insurance adjusters and a herculean effort to get their windshield replaced so we could continue on.

Yes?

Ok…
The second story isn’t really all that interesting but you asked so…
It pretty much boils down to just a function of: “They don’t build ‘em like that anymore.”

(and might I say, that you should have learned by now, that it’s likely not a good idea to let me go off in left field and tell a story)



So, in the beginning…
I had plucked down $200 bucks for the right to own and drive my first car (and was even proud to have done so at the time). The noble chariot in question was a 1966 Chevy Impala. At the time I acquired this monster it was an already 15 year old two door coupe, long as a yacht, outweighed a tank, and came equipped with ruined paint and insurmountable amounts pf rust. You only needed a screwdriver to open the trunk, and any key you cared to use would turn the ignition (a bottle opener or butter knife would do the job in a pinch). But the beast did have its charms (if you happen to be only a couple years older than the thing and a male, that is). Powered by a big V8, it also boasted a four barrel carb matched to an intake and set of exhausts that made it so you could feel the thing coming before you heard it, and you heard it coming long before you ever saw it. Let’s just say, it had more than enough power to get you either into or out of trouble.

Rapidly…


But given all that prowess, both it and I were helpless to avert what would end up being my first kinetic interaction with another driver (mostly due to the fact that we were sitting still at the time).

I had graduated high school but my collegiate classes were all early in the day so I’d agreed that I’d pick up my younger brother and several friends from school on some afternoons. Just a nicety to alleviant them of the suffering from having either to walk home or ride the busses on those days.

(side note: at this time in South Carolina History, school busses were driven by 17 and 18 year old high school kids and both discipline and decorum were somewhat lacking, so getting a ride with someone else was a luxury {and I could relate a few other stories tied to that fact as well}).


Anyway, I pick up my kit and kin at school one afternoon and we set off toward the house. As it happens, I get caught by the traffic light on the main road out in front of the school complex and dutifully bring the beast to a nice civil stop. Rumbling and sputtering like the purr of a satisfied mountain lion, but none the less, stationary. One of the guys in the backseat was sitting sideways and happened to be looking out the back window. He says to me: “Rob, I think this car is goin’a hit you”. I glance up at my mirror real quick and see this newish Oldsmobile quickly getting larger in the window; the driver is looking down (probably toward the radio if I had to guess). I replied: “Yyyyes he is”, and quickly used both feet to pin the break peddle to the floor board.

***BANG***

This time as well, no one is hurt and I was able to keep from rolling into the car in front of me. We both pull off to the side of the road there and wait on the Highway Patrol. The officer arrives in due course and begins the process of taking statements and writing up the incident report starting with the young’en that clocked us. Turns out that a proud mom and let her boy drive the spiffy new family ride to school that day and likely would be regretting having done so. I was standing behind my old tank waiting my turn, when Mr. Officer came striding toward me to get my side of the story.

We’re standing there side by side between the two vehicles. His arms akimbo as he looks back and forth at exhibits A and B. Then, talking out the side of his mouth, he quietly queries me: “Son… you see any damage to your car?” I, my arms folded across my chest at the time, crane my neck slightly to look around him and back at the Olds. The front end basically looks like so much turquoise colored ground beef, the plastic “chrome” and bright-work is nowhere to be seen and the thing is leaking coolant onto the gravel below. A slow turn of my head back toward the Impala revealed - as near as I could figure - that there may have been a smudge where some of the grime on the back bumper seemed to have been slightly disturbed. I raise my head back up and similarly reply back to him: “Nope… don’t believe I do”. The trooper pulls his writing pad and pen back out, begins scribbling away, and just as quietly replies: “Didn’t think so…”

In the intervening year or so that I owned the Beast; it would help me earn a couple traffic citations, take out a careless delivery truck’s door, become basically airborne at one point, carry on a feud with my brother that would ultimately lead up to it unsuccessfully attempting to kill him, partake of a related excursion to plant itself in a ditch, and cost me dearly in tires, two separate sets of exhaust systems, a shredded gear box and endless tanks of gas. But never did it sustain one bit of body damage beyond the proliferation of rust that it arrived in my driveway with in the first place (assuming you don’t count the tree I sideswiped one morning toward the end of its tenure just as I was coming to realize that my life choices were not availing me of anywhere near enough sleep in those days)

You think there aren't
files already?

Awww...

Hay…
Benefit of the doubt.

It’s what we do down this way.

You can suggest…

Well…
If you do come this far, I can suggest a route back up to I-85 that has a decent scenic element to it. And that also includes the opportunity to either take in or ignore a smallish but historic Revolutionary War site.

No Japanese garden though…

I don't get disappointed
that easily.

Just trying to keep your expectations in check.

Would be honored, to be most sure, but…
given my opinion of myself, it just surprises me that folks would even consider such.

 

[pkondz]

Oh my goodness wasn't that a really bad crash.

I have seen in recent years,
three very similar crashes.
One involving Scott Dixon,
which he walked away from.
One with Dario Franchitti
that ended his career.
And Dan Wheldon,
which claimed his life.

I'm thinking there has
to be a better solution
than those catch fences.
Before the Safer barrier,
hitting the wall meant
bad things would happen.
Now hitting the wall
is much less traumatic.

I am glad he is on the way to recovery but they still haven't said how bad the spinal injury is.

This from 8 hours ago:
"Wickens has had titanium rods and screws placed in his spine to stabilize a fracture associated with a spinal cord injury.
IndyCar said the severity of the spinal cord injury is still unknown and Wickens will require additional corrective surgery and rehabilitation. He remains hospitalized in Pennsylvania."

So they have created a special get well sticker for Wickens and the Nascar and Indy Guys are going to put it on their cars - get well Wickens.
I am planning on buying mine and picking it up next week. The money raised will be going to Sam Schmidts Conquer Paralysis Now charity.

Very nice gesture.

 

[pkondz]

I would need to check with Michelle. She's done more dinning in New Orleans than I. The food in NO is different than here. Louisiana has different sections within the state. In the northern part it's more like the "deep south". The lower middle(below Alexandria), southwestern (Lake Charles), south central (Lafayette) and Baton Rouge have a Cajun influence. New Orleans has a Creole influence. The biggest difference being a brown roux base in Cajun food and a red or tomato roux base in Creole.

Now that's interesting.
I always thought that
Creole and Cajun were
interchangeable terms
at least as far as food goes.

You do know where the word
"Cajun" comes from, right?

I was brought up with an influence of North Louisiana (my Mom) and Cajun (my Dad). Daddy spoke Cajun French and didn't learn English until he went to school. He was ridiculed for this so he wouldn't teach us French.

That's... both terrible
and sad.

And I absolutely hate that.
You persecute someone
for being able to speak
another language????

That's a gift, not a curse.


Sorry. You've struck a nerve there.

That being said there is lots of good food to be had in New Orleans.

I hope to find that out!

 

[pkondz]

Actually, the thing that directly caused the “party” was when Parliament lowered the tax applied to tea imported by the East India Company (because that made it cheaper than the Dutch tea that most of the “partiers” were smuggling into the colonies and cut into their profits).

<jaw drops> Dang! You're kidding!

Huh.

I never knew that.
(Hey. It's your history
not mine.
That's my excuse.)

Oooooo…
Do they still make those?

Oh yes.
Except the "hard" part
of the hardcover is just
the backside of the iPad.

Old radiators are nothing short of instant xylophones

This one was a drum.

And just who is it that gets to decide what’s normal, anyway?

Abby... something.


Normal.

Always best to keep your wits about you down this way.
Things have been known to escalate…
Quickly…


And remember, pride overrules logic.
(and truth for that matter)

Thanks for the tip.

I live in a state that resembles a rug with a smallish center area and a whole lot of fringe.


Lots and lots of fringe…

It’s my true medium…

(I’ve just been suppressing it where ever possible since mid-1995)

Battling many furnaces lately?

At least no one got hurt , but it’s the image of the moment of impact that sticks in my mind.
(and may I recommend that everyone else just skip this part of the film)


A while back I was traveling with my wife’s family up to Baltimore to visit with some other family members. My sister-in-law and mother-in-law were in one car and we were generally leading the way in a separate car most of the trip.

When we got on the Beltway in Washington DC however, I got caught behind some fool in one lane and sis – being in the next lane over at the time - shot past followed in turn by a work truck that had an over-cab pipe-rack built onto it. Said rack was loaded up with a sizable batch of right long and skinny cardboard boxes. I noticed from the logo that it was a roofer’s truck and figured that they must have been rain gutters since roofers didn’t have much use for piping (turns out my assessment was correct).

Now this truck was moving at a good clip, and just as I got myself extricated from my own personal traffic jam and fell back in line behind them, the roofers had made an aggressive maneuver or two which got them around sis quicker than Mario Andretti with an open inside lane (do believe they were late for an appointment of some type, as they were hoofin’ it).

Apparently, however… The fellas in the truck either hadn’t thought to tie down their load, or had previously failed basic knot tying 101, because it was just at that moment when those long boxes started rising up from the front of the rack and then the whole load went simultaneously airborne.

Everything went into cinematic slow-motion at that point. I got on the breaks right quick and was successful in keeping astern of the melee, but the boxes all turned graceful summersaults in midair and then descended upon the cars in front of me like arrows shot downward from the parapets. As they began to strike home each shaft exploded in a grand chrysanthemum plum of shards and fragments that best resembled fireworks over Cinderella’s Castle (and that‘s the particular image which is ingrained so indelibly in my mind). It was both a terrifying and spectacular display of carnage.

On the upside, none of the vehicles struck in the collective five lanes of traffic lost control and we all were able to get pulled over to the side of the highway and stopped without too much additional hoopla (though the same could not be said for the traffic now backing up on I-495 for the next couple hours). On the down side, damage was extensive. Two or three of the missiles had struck my MIL’s big Mercury right at the spot where the roof meets the windshield. The safety-glass was completely shattered in a pattern that resembled a monochromatic mosaic, but as designed, remained intact. Better yet, none of the gutters or shards had penetrated into the cabin (a scary thought to be sure). The rest of the day was devoted to police statements, calls to insurance adjusters and a herculean effort to get their windshield replaced so we could continue on.

Holy crap.
I see a whole lot of people
who are lucky not to have
gotten impaled.
Holy smokes.

Ok…
The second story isn’t really all that interesting but you asked so…
It pretty much boils down to just a function of: “They don’t build ‘em like that anymore.”

(and might I say, that you should have learned by now, that it’s likely not a good idea to let me go off in left field and tell a story)



So, in the beginning…
I had plucked down $200 bucks for the right to own and drive my first car (and was even proud to have done so at the time). The noble chariot in question was a 1966 Chevy Impala. At the time I acquired this monster it was an already 15 year old two door coupe, long as a yacht, outweighed a tank, and came equipped with ruined paint and insurmountable amounts pf rust. You only needed a screwdriver to open the trunk, and any key you cared to use would turn the ignition (a bottle opener or butter knife would do the job in a pinch). But the beast did have its charms (if you happen to be only a couple years older than the thing and a male, that is). Powered by a big V8, it also boasted a four barrel carb matched to an intake and set of exhausts that made it so you could feel the thing coming before you heard it, and you heard it coming long before you ever saw it. Let’s just say, it had more than enough power to get you either into or out of trouble.

Rapidly…


But given all that prowess, both it and I were helpless to avert what would end up being my first kinetic interaction with another driver (mostly due to the fact that we were sitting still at the time).

I had graduated high school but my collegiate classes were all early in the day so I’d agreed that I’d pick up my younger brother and several friends from school on some afternoons. Just a nicety to alleviant them of the suffering from having either to walk home or ride the busses on those days.

(side note: at this time in South Carolina History, school busses were driven by 17 and 18 year old high school kids and both discipline and decorum were somewhat lacking, so getting a ride with someone else was a luxury {and I could relate a few other stories tied to that fact as well}).


Anyway, I pick up my kit and kin at school one afternoon and we set off toward the house. As it happens, I get caught by the traffic light on the main road out in front of the school complex and dutifully bring the beast to a nice civil stop. Rumbling and sputtering like the purr of a satisfied mountain lion, but none the less, stationary. One of the guys in the backseat was sitting sideways and happened to be looking out the back window. He says to me: “Rob, I think this car is goin’a hit you”. I glance up at my mirror real quick and see this newish Oldsmobile quickly getting larger in the window; the driver is looking down (probably toward the radio if I had to guess). I replied: “Yyyyes he is”, and quickly used both feet to pin the break peddle to the floor board.

***BANG***

This time as well, no one is hurt and I was able to keep from rolling into the car in front of me. We both pull off to the side of the road there and wait on the Highway Patrol. The officer arrives in due course and begins the process of taking statements and writing up the incident report starting with the young’en that clocked us. Turns out that a proud mom and let her boy drive the spiffy new family ride to school that day and likely would be regretting having done so. I was standing behind my old tank waiting my turn, when Mr. Officer came striding toward me to get my side of the story.

We’re standing there side by side between the two vehicles. His arms akimbo as he looks back and forth at exhibits A and B. Then, talking out the side of his mouth, he quietly queries me: “Son… you see any damage to your car?” I, my arms folded across my chest at the time, crane my neck slightly to look around him and back at the Olds. The front end basically looks like so much turquoise colored ground beef, the plastic “chrome” and bright-work is nowhere to be seen and the thing is leaking coolant onto the gravel below. A slow turn of my head back toward the Impala revealed - as near as I could figure - that there may have been a smudge where some of the grime on the back bumper seemed to have been slightly disturbed. I raise my head back up and similarly reply back to him: “Nope… don’t believe I do”. The trooper pulls his writing pad and pen back out, begins scribbling away, and just as quietly replies: “Didn’t think so…”

In the intervening year or so that I owned the Beast; it would help me earn a couple traffic citations, take out a careless delivery truck’s door, become basically airborne at one point, carry on a feud with my brother that would ultimately lead up to it unsuccessfully attempting to kill him, partake of a related excursion to plant itself in a ditch, and cost me dearly in tires, two separate sets of exhaust systems, a shredded gear box and endless tanks of gas. But never did it sustain one bit of body damage beyond the proliferation of rust that it arrived in my driveway with in the first place (assuming you don’t count the tree I sideswiped one morning toward the end of its tenure just as I was coming to realize that my life choices were not availing me of anywhere near enough sleep in those days)

Okay... quite the story!

But... I don't quite get the cop part.
Was he trying to keep you out of it?
Or just not do the extra paperwork?

As for the rest.... It sure sounds
like there are far more stories
to tell there.

Well…
If you do come this far, I can suggest a route back up to I-85 that has a decent scenic element to it. And that also includes the opportunity to either take in or ignore a smallish but historic Revolutionary War site.

Oh? I just might look into that.
Depending on time.

It always comes down to that.

I need to retire so I can
spend a couple of months
driving around.
Not a measly few days.

No Japanese garden though…

Can't have everything.

Just trying to keep your expectations in check.

Would be honored, to be most sure, but…
given my opinion of myself, it just surprises me that folks would even consider such.

Okay. Expect another PM
in the next little bit.
My plans are getting
a bit more finalized now.

 

[vamassey1]

Now that's interesting.
I always thought that
Creole and Cajun were
interchangeable terms
at least as far as food goes.

There's a lot that is similar. The original term Creole meant a mixture of French & Spanish. Louisiana ownership went back and forth between France and Spain before being sold to the US. Over time Creole meant something else.

You do know where the word
"Cajun" comes from, right?

Yes I do. Many people make the trip to Nova Scotia to see where they came from. I have a family tree that traces one side of my Dad's family back to France. That side didn't come from Acadia. I don't know about the other side. But my Ancestry shows that some of my DNA came from Nova Scotia.

That's... both terrible
and sad.

Very sad. He always had trouble with certain English sounds.

And I absolutely hate that.
You persecute someone
for being able to speak
another language????

It's not like that anymore. The Cajun lifestyle and food is very much in demand now . I wish he had lived to see it.

That's a gift, not a curse.

I agree. We now have to be taught to speak French and very few places teach Cajun French.

Sorry. You've struck a nerve there.

Thanks for the support.

I hope to find that out!

I hope you like spice.

 

[QueenJen]

Well since you're going so far south to include Atlanta, perhaps you could just swing over to Cali!

I was going to suggest the same!

All caught up - love reading about your adventures. I get so many tips for possible places to visit in the future from several trip reports. Ahh....only so much time and not enough $$.

I noticed you picked up a poker chip from the dealership closest to me - Irvine, CA. Hope there was not too much gridlock for you to get there. How did you like the packed 16 (I believe) lane freeway?

We enjoy the drive down the 5 to San Diego - try to go at least once a year - it's nice to see the ocean right there!

I was finishing up the last few pages and now I want Bad Burger Daddy for dinner followed by Sunni Sky's ice cream. I think I'm going to be 0 for 2 on that!