« I Hate Weather | HomePage | Book Review: The Time Traveler's Wife »
May 07, 2008
Tulsa, Transmission, and a Long Night With Marilyn Monroe
This may be the most bizarre blog I've ever written. The strangest experiences...are the true ones.
What began as an innocent trip to see grandparents turned into a doorway to the Twilight Zone. After running a couple of small errands after leaving the office yesterday, I loaded my wife and two daughters into the car and we left for Oklahoma. My wife Kristin was planning to help her grandparents lay new carpet for a couple of days, and so I chauffeured her from Springfield to Tulsa where she would meet her mother. After sticking around the old stomping grounds for a couple of hours (during which time I took in the killer-action Robert Downey Jr./Jon Favreau film, "Iron Man"), I left to return as a bachelor to my dog in Springfield.
After an hour-and-a-half of sipping a Starbucks White Chocolate Mocha and straining my vocal chords to sing over John Mayer blaring out of my iPod, I quickly discovered something was dead wrong as my car began roaring. The roar was louder than usual and yet the vehicle itself was slowing down. As I neared the Afton/Fairland/Grove exit (Exit 302 - the image of this sign is forever etched in my memory), I knew...yes, I knew...it was all over.
I pulled my vehicle to the side of the Interstate - I-44 - and set my emergency lights on as my body and vehicle vibrated to the wind of a thousand speeding semi trucks. I dialed 9-1-1 and waited. And then I waited some more. I began watching an episode of "Scrubs" on the iPod, and after it ended, I began to realize help wasn't coming. I called Geico and asked that my Roadside Assistance Plan be kicked into full gear, but, alas, the time was now midnight, and "Open 24 Hours" apparently means nothing to tow companies. I reached no one and was relieved when Trooper Brown showed up, the familiar blue lights I have grown accustomed to loathing came flashing and I soon found myself being hauled off to the nearest Norman-Bates-esque motel...which just happens to be in Afton, Oklahoma (pop. 12 + me).
Now exhausted beyond measure (and at 1:30 AM, I should be), I checked myself into the Route 66 Motel for the night...or a reasonable facsimile thereof. Upon opening my motel room door, however, I found myself wide awake once more.
There, right in front of me, was a hot-pink bed, which sat atop a shaggy hot-pink rug. On the inside of the main window where a curtain would normally be were a thousand strings of pink beads and small plastic mirrors, giving off a disco-ball effect. On every wall was a gigantic framed poster of the late great Marilyn Monroe. 
Pinned to the wall was another photo of Marilyn, this one a life-sized cardboard cutout with a bonus 3-D effect given by a pink silk scarf coming out of the photo.
I found myself asking two questions, both to nobody: "Was I supposed to be paying hourly for this motel?" and then, after talking myself out of that one, "Did Marilyn Monroe STAY here once?" I could stand that thought better. Who knows? Perhaps the lovely Ms. Monroe slept in the exact bed I was sleeping in. That could be a surreal thought. Still, as lovely as Marilyn may have been, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was a little creepy sleeping in a shrine to a long-dead Hollywood starlet from the Golden Age of movies. Well, maybe not the "golden age" but, still a long time ago.
Somehow or another, I eventually drifted off to sleep.
When I awoke, planning to fix whatever rock had fallen into my engine and head back to Springfield, I was perplexed to find that a rock had not, in fact, wandered into my engine, but that my transmission was totally, completely destroyed. The Ford dealer in Miami, OK (pronounced "My-Amm-Uhhhhh" lest you find yourself given over to the Oklahoma Mafia) kindly offered to rebuild the transmission for a mere $3,300. Needless to say, I was less than overwhelmed at his kindness.
I did, however, receive wonderful actual help from my wife's uncle Norman Steffenson (who, for anyone in the Northeast Oklahoma area, is an amazing plumber who is VERY reasonable! - I will design for him a website! That's how I can begin to repay him! -- Sorry for the rambling. I'm working these things out as I go along.). Uncle Norm offered to spend the entire pouring rain day with me, helping me to find the best deal on a new transmission, which we finally discovered for a now-measly $1100 (Thanks, Ron of the soon-to-be condemned Affordable Transmission). After turning my now-toast Taurus over to Ron for his last 30 days of business in Miami (My-Amm-Uhh), OK, Uncle Norm graciously agreed to loan me his daughter's VW Jetta. For the rest of the adventure home, I probably looked like a gay rainy-sweaty-dirty fashion designer driving a flashy red Jetta with wonderfully feminine red beads and tassels hanging from the rear-view mirror.
So, all in all, I turned out to be very blessed.
Still, what a weird 24 hours.
20:15 Posted in Random | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this | Tags: Marilyn Monroe, Route 66, I-44, transmission, auto mechanics