Wednesday, January 1, 2020

I'm Pretty Sure Hick Is Trying To Kill Me: Unsecured Cargo Edition

From time to time, I might have voiced (with my fingers) a concern that I'm pretty sure Hick is trying to kill me. I stand by my inklings.

We drove over the border of Oklahoma on Monday afternoon, to spend the night and see The Pony off on the rest of his journey Tuesday morning. He still had four hours to drive, while we had five hours to return home.

As with all such trips, which involve an overnight in FREE rooms at a casino, my knees rebel. They don't like the walking, they don't like the riding. At breakfast, I mentioned that I was not looking forward to the drive home.

"I don't know what to tell you, Val. You can lay down in the back."

What in the NOT-HEAVEN???

"Uh. I can't lay in the back."

"I don't know why not. Sit on the edge, and roll yourself in."

The Pony met my gaze over his chocolate-chip Belgian waffle. If he was more socially savvy, I imagine he would have twirled his crazy temple finger in regards to Hick's proposal.

"There is no way I'm laying in the back of the car for five hours!"

"Besides, Dad. It's pretty much illegal to ride unrestrained."

Oh, I bet Hick would have been rubbing his hands together with glee if I had fallen for his suggestion. He's a jabby sweaver, you know. Wearing down those wake-up bumps at the center line and shoulder little by little, each trip.

About halfway home, I implored Hick to back off the semi truck hauling a septic tank that he had been tailgating for 20 miles.

"I may feel like I'm dying, but I don't plan to die today."

"Oh, Val. You're so dramatic." [Chuckle, chuckle.]

Said the man who wanted to drive me 267.5 miles without a seatbelt. He'll need to up his game for 2020. I'm onto him.

10 comments:

  1. My knees stove up with long drives also. I can walk forever, but don't set me in one position for hours, that is a killer. But I am happy you are home safe and you got to see the boys.

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    1. Yes, we had a good trip and a good visit. I can hobble my way through casinos, but I have to stand up and get circulation going before attempting to walk.

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  2. That long a trip would have made me insist on an overnight in a hotel. I can't do those long road trips any more.

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    1. We DID have an overnight hotel! Or else it would have been a 10-hour drive, to get there and back in one day.

      We do make "frequent" stops on this route. After 90 minutes, then 30 more, then 90 more, then we're there.

      On the way home, it's just two stops, at 90 minutes, then 120 more, then 90 minutes home. By then, I can barely walk. I wish I was as spry as Hick!

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  3. Hick drives like my older brother. He has Parkinson's so he has an excuse. His car has an "Out-of-lane" warning system that beeps when he sweves. Driving with him feels like like a blind man walking with a cane checking for the curb.

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    1. At least there's an explanation for your brother's driving style. Even The Pony, who is by no means a seasoned, accomplished driver...is smoother than Hick. Stays in the lanes, and squeezes the brakes to a full stop. I'm glad Hick didn't raise a jabby sweaver!

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  4. At first I thought you were dodging and ducking from unsecured cargo flying around in the back every time Hick hit a speed bump or swove, but now I know he wants YOU to BE the cargo. I see your problem with the knees and all but don't have any helpful ideas apart from staying home and letting The Pony learn to drive that distance on his own. Or just with Hick while you keep in touch from the home base.

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    1. Good thing I didn't fall for Hick's tactic. There WAS cargo shifting around in the back. Most notably his metal camouflage water bottle from the casino a few months back, that he never carried into the house, but tossed in the back of A-Cad.

      For a few trips, Hick took HOS (Hick's Oldest Son), to drive halfway or accompany The Pony. HOS is too busy now to take a break from work. The Pony is better at driving than he used to be, and SAYS he can do it on his own. After his crash, I still worry that he might fall asleep.

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  5. If he says he can, I'd be giving that a trial. My newly-licenced older boy once declared he could ride his motorbike all the way the Grandma's instead of squeezing into the car with the rest of us. So we let him and followed the whole way without crowding him, just to keep an eye out and he did fine. It's about an hour drive and he was barely sixteen on a 750cc bike.

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    1. An hour! That's a long way to Grandma's house on a motorbike! I'm glad he did so well.

      I want to give The Pony a chance. Really. But that wreck on his first trip home for Thanksgiving will not let my mind be reasonable.

      Genius was DRIVING at 10 years old. Not on a real road, but driving a Toyota Tercel (that had burst into flames getting it home) with a stick shift, around the sinkholes, from front yard field to BARn field. WITH The 7-year-old Pony as a passenger. So I'm not all that overprotective...

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