I'm not a nerd or a big fan of
numerology, but I am a sucker for symmetry. And milestones.
You can imagine my excitement when I realized that the odometer on my car was just a few hundred miles away from turning to 100,000. Hugely exciting for me, as I've never been able to hold on to a car long enough to witness such a momentous marking of mileage.
My biggest worry was that I would be too busy having road rage or putting on my lip gloss or eating a taco to catch the notable event as it happened. Worse, that I would be alone in the car with no one around to share the memory.
You can imagine my excitement when I realized that the odometer on my car was just a few hundred miles away from turning to 100,000. Hugely exciting for me, as I've never been able to hold on to a car long enough to witness such a momentous marking of mileage.
My biggest worry was that I would be too busy having road rage or putting on my lip gloss or eating a taco to catch the notable event as it happened. Worse, that I would be alone in the car with no one around to share the memory.
I find it more than fitting that the
Big Moment happened on a road trip with my Mom and my husband...two
of my favorite people. Oh yeah, and that OnStar GPS chick. Of course
that bimbo had to tag along.
We headed out early Thursday morning,
optimistically dreading the long trip from Amarillo to Houston,
though none of us dreading it with less optimism than the Dickman.
(And really, who could blame him? What man in his right mind would
look forward to being locked in a car for nine hours with three
chattering chicks...a Twittering Trifecta of Insanity?)
A lesser man would have at least
brought along ear plugs. But not the Dickman. Armed with only a
fistful of 5-Hour Energy Drinks, one lead foot and a determined
smile...he bravely set off on the journey.
As the odometer ticked away the miles,
my sainted Mama blessed us with her nuggets full o' wisdom...the
highlights of which I recorded.
Here is just a smattering of Mama's
Ramblings from the Road:
MILE 99741: “Don't you just love Tom
Selleck, Robin? I loooooove Tom Selleck. I have always loved him.
I mean, I love to just look at him. I don't really want to do anything
with him. Except maybe feel him a little. Don't tell me you don't
want to feel Tom Selleck, Robin. Surely there's somebody you wish you could feel...”
MILE 99811: “I've done a few things
I'm sure God didn't approve of. Not as many as Dick, but a few. It's easier not to sin when you get older. Let's face it –
it's just easier to be a Christian when you get old.”
MILE
99896: “Hey Dick? Aren't you proud of me for doing my Spiegels
so that you don't have to stop as often for me to tinkle? Robin told
me to do those exercises 10 times a day and hold for like...3
seconds. But I hold 'em at
least 64 seconds. Hey
Dick? How many times does 3 go into 64?”
MILE
#99923: “Hey Dick? You shoulda seen the hand dryer in that
bathroom. It sounded like a B-14 taking off. Is that the right
number, B-14? I can't feel my hands.”
MILE
#99952: “I would not want to live on waterfront property - even if they were
giving it away. I'm scared to get in the water anymore. What if my
head went under and my false teeth floated out? I guess I would just stay
underwater until I stopped breathing.”
MILE#99993:
“Hey Dick...remember when you were 15 and dating Robin and her brother asked you how your hammer was hanging? Did that really embarrass you?”
And
then...
And
then It Happened.
The clouds parted and the angels trumpeted and the odometer rolled over to 100,000!!! Even Mama hushed for a moment of silence. It was a brief moment, but Dickie and his bleeding ears truly appreciated the effort.
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Other than hitting 100,000 miles, Mom's
funny banter was the most entertaining part of the trip. Right up 'til we passed the city limits of Houston-Freaking-Texas.
IMPORTANT FACT: The Dickman cannot
multitask.
That little factoid, coupled with
the reality of Houston's highway infrastructure being just a few
concrete blocks short of a demolition zone, mixed in with Mama's droning, my
back-seat driving and that obnoxious OnStar beeyotch...and you have
nothing less than a recipe for disaster.
Envision with me, if you will...Houston, Texas during
rush hour. My Mama is talking LOUDLY with my brother on the phone,
I'm screaming directions at Dickie because that blasted OnStar chick
WILL NOT shut up, while he is staring in utter panic at the octopus of
freeways and off ramps looming ahead. But because Dickie is a man
and can only do ONE THING AT A TIME...he exits off the main freeway
onto a highway of 90-mile-an-hour-bumper-to-bumper traffic.
OnStar robot bimbo says: “You have
left the planned route. Do you need directions to get back on route?
I'm listening.”
With eyes popping and veins bulging,
Dickie squawked, “Yes!”.
“Speak slower, please. Do you need new directions? I'm
listening.”
“NO!!” says Mom loudly to my
brother on the phone.
“Okay. Your route will be cancelled.”
said lil Miss OnStar.
Everything that happened afterward is pretty much a
blur. Suffice it to say that I don't know who was more lost...OnStar or us. All I know is that it took 9 hours to drive to Houston
and 2 hours to find our hotel.
On the trip back home, Mom promised to be quiet. She seemed to have no trouble adjusting to breathing through her new
muzzle. And we both quickly learned to appreciate the convenient absorbency of
adult undergarments.
As for Dickie, he loaded up with
whatever comes after 5-hour energy drinks, bought a shiny new
laminated map of Texas, and fired that OnStar chick.
Anyhoo...here's to the next 100,000 miles. And to remembering: it's not the destination, it's the journey.
“You got to be careful if you don’t know where you’re going, because you might not get there.”
~ Yogi Berra ~
