Cars and Things

Last week while at school I overheard two people talking in hushed tones. Naturally, the hushed tones indicated that they did not want to be overheard, and naturally, this compelled me to eavesdrop.

Thing 1: Dude, I don’t know what to do. If my parents find out they’re going to kill me.

Thing 2: You’d better tell them though. It’s better if they hear it from you than Facebook.

Thing 1: Yeah, but you don’t understand. They really might kill me. My mom owns over 30 guns and knows how to use them. Plus, this is the one thing I told them I would never ever ever do. I don’t know how I could tell them.

Thing 2: That’s rough man. What do you think you should do?

Thing 1: I need to tell them. I just don’t know how.

Thing 2: Do it like a bandaid. Just rip it off quick.

Thing 1: Do you think I could text them?

Thing 2: I don’t know. How often do they text?

Thing 1: All the time. They hardly ever actually call me. Still, this is really serious though. I don’t know if a text would be enough.

Thing 2: Well, here’s what you do: Write it out as if you were going to text them. Then call and go off your script. It’ll help get things straight in your head.

Thing 1: That’s a great idea. Thanks man.

At this point I was dying to know what Thing 1 had done that would cause his parents to kill him, but I was running late for class and couldn’t stick around. I entered the classroom just as the bell rang and hurriedly took a seat in the back of the classroom. The teacher began prancing about the front of the room talking about our new book and whether or not the tree sap represented life or death. Or both. Or eternal life. Or love. Or decay of the capitalist sphere. Or the Spanish Fascists. Honestly, I don’t know what he was talking about. I usually have no idea where the conversation goes in class. I just make a comment about fatalism or the sublime every now and then and people think I know what I’m talking about. It’s not very honest, but I have a sneaky suspicion that it’s what all the professors do too. Anyway, once the discussion gets underway I can pull out my laptop and start checking Twitter and playing Fishy. (P.S. if you’ve never played Fishy, it can destroy lives, but the proudest moment of mine was being the biggest fish in the pond and eating everything else thereby ‘winning’ the game.) I like to wait to take out my laptop because if I start playing around at the beginning of class it might seem suspicious. If I only take it out during discussion I could claim I’m taking notes. I’ve a deceptive personality with little scruples in the way of social morals, but I do wish to keep up appearances. So I play Fishy and think about Thing 1 and Thing 2. I imagine the kinds of things Thing 1 could have done to get in so much trouble with his parents. I attend BYU, so that list is even longer than it would usually be. In addition to universally despicable behaviors such as murder and rape, the BYU list must include drinking beer, touching a boob, seeing a boob, dating a Catholic or a Democrat, and various tiny sins like peeking in a book during a take home exam or buying a Mt. Dew on Sunday. Not knowing anything about this boy’s parents except that his mother is a gun nut I have a hard time imagining what he did. I run through the list and eventually settle on him dating a black girl. I know that casts his parents in a very negative light, but then again his mom is a gun nut, so I feel justified.

After class I headed back to the Library where I overheard these two Things having their ‘private’ conversation. Unfortunately, they were gone. I understood they probably wouldn’t be there, but I was disappointed all the same. I should have stayed longer and tried to glean some information about their identities. I never got a good look at Thing 1’s face, but since it’s BYU I probably couldn’t have told him apart from any other goon around. Except myself. I allow my hair to grow over my ears slightly, so I’m different. Also I only shave once or twice a week. These are small differences, but around here it’s enough. Since there was nobody interesting around anymore I decided to get out my books and start reading. Technically this is studying, but as I am a horrible studier (is that even a word?), I call it reading. University has been a wonderful time for me. I’m exposed to all these new books I never would have read or heard of without it. Of course, sometimes I believe there are good reasons I never would have known of these books without professors. Some of them are quite good, but others are droll and horribly symbolic. I do love some decent symbolism, but after 4 years I’m ready to just read some Harry Potter and turn off my analytics for a while.

After an hour of reading three pages of text as hard to slog through as a Louisiana bayou, I gave up and headed home. I rarely try to read these things anyway, but I thought I’d give it a shot while I waited for Things 1 & 2 to return. Am I broken? My purest joy in life comes from snooping around the Harold B. Lee Library prying into lives of people I don’t care about. Maybe I need a girlfriend. Maybe I need a boyfriend. I can’t tell anymore. I’m dead inside. Congratulations World. This is what you have made me.

As I walked home I listened to Iron and Wine and evaluated my life. I came to the conclusion that I needed a goal. I decided to try to learn to drive a stickshift. It’s been three days now since I bought my new car, and I can't seem to get the hang of it. I know you used to have an old stickshift truck, so I wanted to write and ask if you had any tips. Love you Grandma!

Love,

Keith

Road Trip Part II

A few weeks ago I posted a short scene about two couples experiencing car trouble on a road trip. This was meant to be a humorous glance at different personalities motivated by pride, piousness, and one case of plain, good sense. Since posting, I have done some work on that piece. By work I mean simply adding to, no editing done yet (I really should do more of that with my work). This next installment features different reactions of the various personalities after the initial excitement of the episode has worn off. I hope I have captured here the wisdom and simultaneous hypocrisy of which I am too often the author, as well as the gentle intelligence and understanding of those who must put up with my nonsense (mostly my wife). While these characters reflect what I believe is the essence of my personal relationships I hope I have not written myself too much into the story. I recently heard A.S. Byatt say in an interview that writing should never be self expressive. While I believe writing is by its very nature self expression, I have tried to adhere to the spirit of that statement since hearing it and write my characters as independent entities with whom I sometimes agree and who I sometimes want to strangle. To that end, I hope you don't see too much—nor too little I might add—of me or my acquaintances in these stories, and instead see only Jason, Shirley, Paul and Martha who, if I have done my job as writer well, will necessarily bear strong resemblance to characters who are all too alive and well in this world of ours. Thank you for entertaining my philosophies and holding out to the end of my ramblings. With no further ado, I present for your consumption and critique— The Road Trip Part II: Beyond Thunderdome

For Part I of our exciting adventure click here

Martha: (to Paul) Do you think we’ll still get to go to Vegas?

Paul: I don’t know. I don’t see why we shouldn’t.

Martha: Oh good. I really don’t want this to spoil our trip. I really want to go see Celine Dion and Cirque du Soleil. Do you think we’ll be able to do that?

Paul: Of course we will. We can do whatever you want sweetie.

Jason: (annoyed) Before we can go anywhere we need to find out what’s wrong with the car. We might have to turn back.

Paul: There’s no need for that. If we have to fix the car we might as well go to Vegas for it. We’re closer to there than we are to home.

Jason: Yes, but we still have to get home, and if the car is breaking down now there’s a good chance it won’t be able to handle the full trip.

Paul: There’s no reason to assume that. It’s probably nothing anyway.

Jason: Or it’s something major. I’m sorry, but right now being able to get home is more important to me than your vacation.

Shirley: Alright guys, let’s settle down. We won’t know anything until we find out what’s wrong with the car. Let’s save the decision making ‘til then, shall we.

Jason: You’re right. Sorry I snapped at you guys. I’m just really upset.

Paul: It’s cool buddy.

Martha: Well, I really hope we get to go to Vegas. I’ve been looking forward to this for two months. I’ve looked up all the shows going on right now and made a schedule, and if we don’t get to go all that work has been wasted.

Jason: I need to move around.

(Jason gets out of the car. Shirley follows him. They start to walk.)

Shirley: Are you okay honey?

Jason: Yeah I’m fine.

Shirley: No you’re obviously upset. Come on. What’s wrong?

Jason: It’s just…I just wish people could think about someone besides themselves for once. I wish they could understand that it’s not all about them. Bad things happen, and even though sometimes I wish they would, they don’t happen simply to spite you. In fact, most people don’t give a damn about you or if you get to see Celine Dion. If we all just died out here most people, even people we know, would just go on living their lives as if nothing had changed. And that’s okay. The world doesn’t have to be this wonderful place that revolves around you. It’s okay for shitty things to happen and it doesn’t mean anyone hates you, or loves you, or anything. That’s just how things are. I just can’t stand it that people can’t accept that.

Shirley: I’m sorry honey, but you know they don’t do it to spite you. They’re just self-centered.

Jason: That’s the problem. I wish they would do it to spite me. At least it would mean they were thinking of me and not just their own feelings.

Shirley: Well honey, that’s what I’m here for. I wish that could be enough.

(Jason starts to say something.)

            No. It’s okay. I understand that you’re just frustrated, but please just try and realize that we’re all frustrated too.

Jason: I’m sorry Shirley. You’re right. You’re always right. It’s just so damn annoying that people can’t see things the way you and I do. I just want to shake them ‘til they realize there are other people here too with feelings of their own. I just want them to realize that it’s not the end of the world if their trip doesn’t turn out exactly the way they built it up to be in their minds. People just aggravate me.

Shirley: I understand honey. Let’s get back in the car and wait for AAA to show up. Come on. Put on a brave face for me, okay?

Jason: Okay. I love you.

Shirley: I love you too. Come on and get back in the car.  

Road Trip (Warning: Some Adult Language)

The other day after doing some writing for a long term project I've been working on I was exhausted by all the seriousness in it (something I really need to change). My desire to write something a little more whimsical turned out this masterpiece (sarcasm). I really do love this idea though, and I'm excited to see what happens with it. Anyway, I give you: The Road Trip

Jason: Damn it to hell! What the fuck is wrong now?!!! I just spent a thousand fucking dollars getting the dumb ass car to work! It can’t be fucking broken!!

Shirley: Well, should we call somebody?

Jason: No. Let me look at it first.

(Jason gets out of the car and opens up the hood, Shirley gets out her phone and looks up a number)

Shirley: I’m really sorry about this guys. He really should learn to control his temper.

Paul: It’s okay. Do you think he needs help?

Shirley: Why? Are you a doctor?

Paul: No. I meant, with the engine.

Shirley: Probably. He doesn’t know anything about engines. He can change a tire, but that’s it.

Martha: Really? Well Paul knows all about engines. He can definitely help him out.

(Paul starts to get out)

Shirley: I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.

(door shuts, Paul is out of the car)

Martha: Don’t worry. Paul will fix whatever’s wrong and Jason will feel better.

Shirley: I doubt that.

Martha: Why?

Shirley: Jason got out pretending to know about engines. What does that tell us about him?

Martha: He’s just a guy. Guys think they know everything.

Shirley: No. He knows he doesn’t know anything about engines. He’s not trying to fix anything. He’s trying to
save face. Normally he’d get back in after about 5 minutes and say he couldn’t see anything and we’d call someone and it’d get fixed with Jason feeling like we all think he did everything he could. With Paul out there actually knowing about engines it’ll just make Jason feel stupid and he’ll be in a sour mood all the way to Albuquerque.

Martha: No. He’ll just be happy that it’s fixed. You’ll see. Paul will fix everything.

Outside of the car

Jason: So, I’m thinking it might be the carburetor, but I really can’t get down there to see it right now.

Paul: Yeah, you might be right. Although…hmm…so it’s just overheating, right?

Jason: Looks like, but you know it won’t start at all so maybe it’s something with the starter.

Paul: Could be, but it does make a starting sound. I think you’re best bet is the battery.

Jason: No, if it was the battery nothing would work.

(Stare at the engine for a few seconds mumbling)

Paul: Maybe the battery only works a little.

Jason: I’ve never heard of that.

Paul: Oh yeah. Sometimes it’ll turn on the radio and stuff, but won’t start the car.

Jason: But that doesn’t explain the steam.

Paul: Well that’s probably the intake valve.

Jason: I hope not. That’ll cost too much to replace and I just spent a bunch of money on this.

Paul: Yeah. Those valves go for about 100 bucks if you can find a cheap one. You might be able to find one
at a junkyard for around 50.

Jason: I don’t think that’s it though. I really think the carburetor needs more oil.

Paul: Yeah? When was the last time you put some in?

Jason: Well I just got an oil change last week, but maybe they forgot about that.

Paul: You should check your manifold.

Back in car

(Shirley is wrapping up a conversation with AAA)

Martha: You know this happened to us on our honeymoon, and Paul bless his heart was out there for hours
trying to fix the thing.

Shirley: Yeah. Uh huh. Thank you very much. Good bye.

Martha: It turned out to be something with one of the filters. I hope it doesn’t take so long this time.

Shirley: Well the AAA guy is on the way. Once he gets here we’ll be able to figure out what to do.

Martha: Oh I’ll bet Paul’s already working on whatever’s wrong. He really is so handy.

Shirley: Did you say one of the filters?

Martha: What?

Shirley: I didn’t catch the whole story you told. Did you say it turned out to be one of the filters?

Martha: Oh. Yes I did. I hope there’s nothing wrong with your filters.

Shirley: Be nice if that was it.

Martha: Oh no, you don’t want that. Those things are in the most inconvenient, hard to get place. All the way underneath the back of the car.

Shirley: How do you know that?

Martha: Paul told me. He tried explaining how it all worked, but I didn’t understand it. He’s so smart you know and it just comes so easy to him.

Shirley: Uh huh... Well…uh…hmm.

(Opens door and yells to the boys)

Hey, I called AAA. They said a guy will be here in about 30 minutes. Why don’t you come wait with us in the car?

Boys: Alright. Sure.

(boys get back in car)

Martha: So did you see what’s wrong with it?

Paul: No. It’s probably the pistons.

Martha: Oh. Well at least it’s not the filter. I never want to have a bad filter again.

Paul: No, it’s probably not the filter, thank goodness.

Shirley: (to Jason) I’m sorry honey. It sucks doesn’t it.

Jason: I just don’t get it. I fixed everything before we left. I spent a thousand bucks getting things fixed. This just shouldn’t happen.

Shirley: Well maybe it’ll be an easy fix. We’ll know when the AAA guy gets here.

Jason: Yeah maybe. I’m sorry for losing my temper. I’m just so frustrated.

Shirley: It’s okay. I love you dear.

Jason: I love you too.

Paul: (to Martha) Yeah it doesn’t look good. Probably cost the poor guy a load of money to fix. I should
have insisted on bringing the jeep.

Martha: Why didn’t we?

Paul: Gas money. Jason said we oughta take his car ‘cause it’d be cheaper. I feel for the guy.

Martha: I do too. It’s a blessing he has a good friend like you here to help him out though.

Paul: Well I do what I can.

(Nobody says anything for a while, radio plays; every now and then someone sings a snatch of the song)