Back when I first decided to give screenwriting a shot as a side gig in the early nineties I attended a weekend seminar with the brilliant Robert McKee. Mr. Mckee, I salute you.
One of the things that stuck with me was his explanation of storytelling talent. He posited the question as to why one person can enter a room of colleagues after a weekend and bore them to tears telling them about a latest five star holiday in Greece while another can enter that same room five minutes later and captivate them all over coffee with a recitation of their last trip to the dry cleaners. I found that fascinating.
Challenge accepted.
Part of my caretaker role here on Casa Claire is to make sure everything keeps running. That includes servicing the two cars. Lisa has been loaning her Acura to Georgie during their stay with us, so it gets a lot of use. Children are the most voracious of consumers. Grandchildren even more so. They do a lot of food shopping.
Yesterday, I had scheduled Lisa’s Acura for its 6 month servicing. So, I lent Georgie my Toyota (yes the same one from The Claire Saga) and watched my legacy head out to drop the two older girls at their not so local private school over a half-hour away. Vaya con dios.
Now, back in Riverdale everything is walkable. I mean, the schools, bars, park, pool, grocery store, deli, pizza parlor, chinese takeaway, bagel shop, and even the laundry were within a block of the McCaffrey Compound. The church and funeral parlor were a couple of blocks away, which was good, as any closer proximal familiarity would only breed contempt. I would even walk the quarter mile through Wave Hill to the Metro North or half-mile through Fieldston to the subway if I needed to get downtown.
We became a little more reliant on cars once the kids hit middle school and started traveling team sports, which required regularly driving north to Westchester and beyond, or south across the GW bridge.
But on a day-to-day basis, our weekdays remained pleasantly pedestrian.
Here in NoCo, despite technically living in Berthoud, I am nowhere near the actual town. Indeed, one time – after my Toyota was t-boned during a pizza run (check the back blogs from a few years ago) – and Lisa was off with her Acura at work in Longmont, I had to speed walk from my home along all of the sidewalkless county roads that lead to town, to the office of my wonderful dentist. It took me an hour and fifteen minutes at a New Yorker’s pace. Back east, I could easily walk from the Village to Midtown in that same time.
Well yesterday I had the first morning appointment to service the Acura at my go to car shop (which is right across the street from the dentist). And when I reached the first of many stop signs along my route, I glanced down at the Acura dash expecting to see that annoying electronic notice threatening my life as I know it if I didn’t bring the car in for servicing.
Instead I saw this.
Now, in my devil-may-care youth, I enjoyed the Cosmo Kramer approach to driving the car well past the red zone on the gas gauge.
I thought of my legacy driving comfortably in my gas-filled Toyota and went to full blown magically curse that immediately next generation, biting my tongue at the last second only because I was not sure whether they had already dropped the grans off at school. Plus I didn’t want to waste any of the magic I would need to reach the closest gas station on the petrol fumes left in the car.
I rarely drive the Acura. It is too nice a car for me. It has a lot of bells and whistles my trusted and less expensive Toyota does not have. It is heavier, more solid, prettier. It’s engine and transmission are more powerful. It is more an acquaintance than friend. I did not know what it was capable of.
So I thought back to all of the old school and completely unproven driving tricks from my teens that I now needed to apply so I could extend the fuel burn to get me to town. Gently pushing the gas pedal with just my big toe, removing my foot from the pedal completely on all downhill stretches and accelerating going into the curves or when reaching the valley before the next incline so I could use gravity and momentum instead of petrol to slingshot me forward and toward town. It seemed to have worked for the Apollo missions of my youth. I prayed the notorious NoCo wind would be at my back. I refused to look at the gas gauge, even while I was sweating profusely at the interminable only red light along the route – the notorious 287. That would be tempting fate.
Tossing all caution to the wind, once I spotted the green light I floored the pedal as I entered that very wide artery – the same place where my Toyota had once been t-boned – praying it would give me the momentum to carry me across and out of harm’s way should the fuel abandon me.
It worked. Once we reached the far side the Acura’s weight and finely tuned wheels and under carriage carried us the five hundred feet towards town and into the closest gas station on the route. I made it. Forty-eight dollars and one cent later (I never seem to be able to stop the pump exactly on the dollar), I was able to complete the next five hundred feet to my destination and to the friendly face of Larry – who collects my inscribed books –
at my local service shop.
But I would be lying if I did not admit that the stress of that experience triggered a slight sense of Agoraphobia. I’m beginning to understand why JD Salinger didn’t like to leave his New Hampshire home – https://www.vermontpublic.org/vpr-news/2014-08-25/inside-j-d-salingers-former-new-hampshire-home.
But once recovered safely back home I again felt the full mystical pull of Casa Claire as the last night of the Full Blue Supermoon shed its final rays on Claire as her large silhouette and Honey followed me from the backyard down to the new barn for breakfast early this morning.
So, my fine, five readers, did I capture your attention with all the excitement of a trip to the dry cleaners?
You see, that is the whole point of these daily blogs. To amuse you ever so slightly with the mundanity of daily life, with the hopes that by doing so, you will enjoy the experience enough to then pick up that still free Kindle copy of The Wise Ass and become locked into the actually exciting epic journey of The Claire Saga. Fingers crossed.
Well now Hump-day is upon us. So you fine, five readers get those skates on and attack the hill, remembering to let that last push-off at the bottom carry you as far upwards as possible, to conserve your energy. Then wave to Friday from its apex before tucking and effortlessly racing down hill towards the ever pleasant lady-in-waiting Thursday.
I need to go see some kitties about a cuddle, and then make my rounds.
And no matter what else we get up to, let us make today a great one.
.
10 Responses
When we moved here from Oregon, our church and funeral home were the same building with the coroners office across the street. That was the early 60s. My town has grown by leaps and bounds since then.
Glad you didn’t have to employ the “Fred Flintstone” technique to get to town. Remind me to tell you about a fellow Manhattan Jasper footballer’ s Flintstone antics in a battered 1966 Jasper Green VW bug (with rotted-out floorboards!) in pursuit of amorous adventure on I-95 and the Thruway/Northway in the old days. “Yabba-dabba-doo!”
It’s always a bit of a scary adventure to “Kramer” the gas guage into that uncharted “red” zone for the first time😳😳😳 When I joined the Navy, rode my motorcycle back to Texas to the MEPS from Dolores Co. Ran out of gas about a mile from Ft. Sumner N.M. Had to push it into town. Good times!
Glad you made it!!! Hope Claire and Honey are well, tell them hi for me. 🤣I can hear almost Claires sultry laungh in my head, remind me a bit of Suzanne Pleshette🤣
Hope your day is Blessed!
Loved Suzanne Pleshette.
Your blogs are always en enjoyable read Tom.
But I’m curious…will the family hear about your adventures on an empty gas tank, or will they only find out about it if they read your blog? 😉
My family never reads my work, so the safest place I can hide anything from them is in plain sight in my writing.
First time I have ever run across your writing and story. Enjoyed it very much especially being local living in Loveland made it interesting. Will look for more of your writings to enjoy.
If you get the chance, introduce yourself on September 20th at the Berthoud Literary Festival. I’ll be at the Berthoud Library.
Entertaining as always!
P.S. I like the flag in the barn!!!