I remember a long time ago, perhaps when I was 5 or so, my family took a trip to Disney World. Family members that are old enough will tell how I shot at the pirates with a cap rifle or how I danced with the bears in the cafe. There are really only 2 rides I remember, one is a submarine journey where we get to go on a make believe submarine and see various underwater sea creatures and get attacked by a giant squid. The other is ride was the slot cars. I know I know, not a major drawing point for Disney, but I remember it. I remember sitting in the car with a parent (I am sorry I don’t remember which one) and getting the chance to ‘drive.’ I remember being frustrated at first, I couldn’t coordinate the go peddle and the wheel at the same time and I kept running into the edge of the slot thereby halting progress. I think I finally just gave up and let the adult I was with take over so I could see the park through teary eyes, arms crossed in frustration. I ended up smiling because we got to ‘race’ my brother in his slot car, I also remember the parent hitting the edge of the slot on purpose. I knew I wasn’t suppose to know it was on purpose, but I smiled anyway and enjoyed the bumper car effect. I believe that both rides have since been torn down for progress and new rides that will attract more attention. Lots of times I feel like life is like a slot car track, I go to the same place day after day, hardly ever bumping the edge, always in line and going along the same route time and time again.
Today I did things a bit differently. I had a couple errands to run in town. On the way back I decide to take a slightly alternate route, a road I’ve not been on in over 10 years. One of the last times I was on this road I had been working 3rd shift, needless to say, I wasn’t sleeping regularly. I had to pickup my wife from high school and was running short on time to pick her up and not cause her to be even more of a social outcast then she already was (how many girls did you know of in high school that were married). I must have fallen asleep at the wheel because the next thing I knew I was in the ditch. Luckily I was in a 4-wheel drive and I was able to get out with a little manipulation, leaving a bit of my bumper in the in the mud. The construction workers that were building a house at the site I crashed into just sat on the roof and watched. I made it to school in time to pick her up, she asked about the mud (mumble mumble no comment), and we went home and I went to sleep.
The next road I had to traverse I hadn’t memorably been on in close to 10 years as well. This time I was trying to go home after getting back to town from an out of school trip. I was driving mom’s car and it was raining heavily. I had just gotten on the road, going down a straight away, when the car wouldn’t go any more. I pushed the gas and I could hear it revving up, but nothing happened. I had just enough momentum to pull over to the side and put my blinkers on. I wasn’t far from school so I walk back to use an instructor’s phone to call my girlfriend (mom was out of town for another couple hours). Let me remind you it was raining heavily. I get to school drenched and call my then girlfriend to tell her what happened then I walk back to the car to make sure it doesn’t get hit by anyone going down the road that doesn’t see the blinkers. About 15 soggy minutes later my girlfriend and her parents pull up, look at the car, call a towing company, and bustle me in their car to their house. I’ve been in her house before, so this wasn’t anything special, but since I was soaked through and through I was ordered to take a hot shower to prevent pneumonia. This was the first time I was naked in her house so I had a tingle of excitement run through me, mingled with a slight shiver. That shower was one of the best I’d ever had, but to remain modest since I was a guest I cut it short, hopped out and got dressed in borrowed clothes while mine were in the dryer. I hitched a ride to my house a little while later and we heard from the towing company the next day.
Funny how sometimes memory lane really is just a lazy old country lane.
