Wednesday, October 17, 2007

It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World!

Nope, unfortunately I didn't find "the big dubya," but I felt like I stepped right into a scene from one of the all-time funniest movies evereverever.


Do you remember the scene in "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World!" where "Emiline" is wedged between Jonathan Winters and Milton Berle in the cab of a tow truck? Well. There you have it. Only it wasn't quite so funny as the movie. That was me, wedged between Mr. Tow Truck (Winters) and Dave (Uncle Miltie) staring at a fresh-as-pine car deodorizer dangling in front of my nose as we barrelled down I-15 with the Montero wenched up on the flatbed behind my head and Sean and Christian bobbing around inside of it (illegally, ahem). "Double suspension!" as Sean so succinctly put it after his jarring ride.


A blowout on the freeway was not what we signed up for when we left on an outing to SLC to do some vintage clothes shopping, hit the Broadway Theater for a movie and then on to dinner. But a blowout is what we got. And wouldn't you think, even stretching your imagination just a little bit, that a Firstone Tire store so conveniently near to our recently comandeered shoulder of the freeway would have a tool to remove a stuck lug nut from the spare? Silly me. What could I have been thinking? Somebody bop me on the forehead with a sledgehammer and knock some sense into my noggin'. A tire store with a tool for tires! Good one, that!


Providence was shining upon us, however, since no one was injured as we sat oh so vulnerable as cars raced by at top speed and Dave and Sean crossed not one, but two sections of freeway hauling a 50-pound tire to the not-in-anyway-helpful-Firestone store and back again, and even as Dave laid down in the dirt UNDERNEATH the precariously jacked up Montero trying desparately to shovel out a pocket of sand so the blown out tire could be put back on the car in order for it to be wenched up onto Mr. Tow Truck's flat bed. Whew! Lots of opportunities for Mr. Death to come by to say "howdy!"


Despite his hallitosis, our thanks go out to Mr. Tow Truck Driver for his kindness and patience as we dealt with a non-English speaking insurance representative who drew out this whole process to be much longer than necessary as we sat scrunched side by side in the nifty cab. Me: "No. You don't need to authorize a tow truck. You have already done that. I am sitting in it right now." Insurance representative: "I need to verify your policy number, mam, in order to authorize a tow truck." Me: "Actually, mam, you have done that already. I am sitting in it right now. We just need to have you notate where we are going." Her: "I will be able to call you a tow truck if you will give me your information." Me: "Actually, all we need you to do is . . . ." Her: "Mam, I need to just authorize . . . ." Me: "Dave--it's your turn . . . "


Dinner at Los Hermanos calmed our nerves and satisfied our stomachs. A great game of Sequence polished off a very off-kilter but blessedly safe day.