Bryan Thompson :: Blogged - random

Tulsa, Transmission, and a Long Night With Marilyn Monroe

noreply@blogspirit.com (Bryan Thompson) — Wed, 07 May 2008 20:15:11 -0500

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.

I Hate Weather

noreply@blogspirit.com (Bryan Thompson) — Wed, 23 Apr 2008 19:13:31 -0500

This is my wife's favorite image. Especially the red part that shows up occasionally that indicates only one thing: There's bad weather ahead.

My wife was raised in Oklahoma, and I'm coming to learn that there are few people in the world that get their kicks from bad weather like those born and raised in Oklahoma, Kansas, or Arkansas. If you are from any other place in the world, you may hear of bad thunderstorms and be somewhat thankful for those Severe Weather Updates on the local news, but if you're from Oklahoma, Kansas, or Arkansas, this is where the ultimate thrill of the universe comes into play. You live for the bad weather updates if you're from one of these three states, and Oklahoma gets the biggest kick out of them all.

My wife tells me every time we drive to her grandparents' home in Oklahoma, "There used to be a town here. It got demolished by a tornado."

I sat through a few hurricanes in my Florida upbringing, but I will never TiVo the local news JUST TO SEE THE WEATHERMAN!

Sorry, I just won't go there.

This Cracked Me Up!

noreply@blogspirit.com (Bryan Thompson) — Fri, 22 Sep 2006 00:35:00 -0500

Technorati Tags: Shining, YouTube

never a dull moment at the thompson neighborhood

noreply@blogspirit.com (Bryan Thompson) — Sun, 27 Aug 2006 19:49:43 -0500

So, tonight, my neighbor smelled smoke coming from our downstair's neighbor's apartment, and sure enough, their fire alarm was going off. You could smell the stench very strongly. So, we, being the responsible people we are, called the fire department. Actually, we called the night manager of the apartment and they called the fire department. So, for the second time in three months, we have called the fire department twice. And wouldn't you know it, they both came from the same apartment. Can you say "evicted," boys and girls?

Buzzed!

noreply@blogspirit.com (Bryan Thompson) — Fri, 28 Apr 2006 22:10:00 -0500

So I finally realized I was tired of having the same basic hairstyle since 1997, so the wife decided to help me do something about it. She grabbed the clippers, I took a seat, and "Wa-Laa!" Here I am. Buzzed. Almost shaved. And I realized I have a very round face. And a small forehead. Who knows? Perhaps I'll grow into it. But, I got what I wanted...Different!

Deal or No Deal: It's Awfully Addictive

noreply@blogspirit.com (Bryan Thompson) — Fri, 21 Apr 2006 20:16:13 -0500

Honestly didn't think I would like this show when it first premeired. I mean, it just looked like another TV game show and another television opportunity for Howie Mandel. But, it's not bad. It's awfully addictive. And Howie's not bad either.

Mice!

noreply@blogspirit.com (Bryan Thompson) — Sat, 15 Apr 2006 10:46:00 -0500

So, we found out about a week ago that we had a mouse living in our apartment. Kinda hard to sleep when you think you could wake up covered in rodent-droppings. The next night, I bought a couple of mouse traps. At first nothing seemed to work. They say - whoever "they" are (and apparently "they're" always right) - that you should use peanut butter instead of cheese because the mice will have to work harder to eat the peanut butter. Well, that didn't hold true with our mouse. But then we tried something that worked: Kraft Cheese Crumbles. We just put it on the end of the trigger and "Wa-lah!"

And yes, before you say anything, I did get the old-school wooden trap with the trigger mechanism that snaps their neck. Why not the "harmless" glue-traps? Because I find those are far less humane. First the creatures get stuck on this thing (for good), and then they must either starve to death or they require you to stomp the life out of them (CRUEL!). And the box-traps that spare them don't work - they somehow find their way back in. So, I decided it would be less humane to just kill them in one sweeping motion of a trigger.

And it kills me to do it. I'm such a softie for animals. Any animals (except for cockroaches and moths - don't ask - I have childhood issues with these)! The thought always comes, "What did this little guy ever do to you?" Which, in this case, "this" little guy ate all of our groceries - at least enough to make us leary of eating them. But, I'm slowly but surely getting over the guilt.

Paper, Rock, Scissors: the New Death Sport

noreply@blogspirit.com (Bryan Thompson) — Mon, 10 Apr 2006 07:55:00 -0500

The TODAY SHOW ran a story this morning (April 10, 2006) about the Internation Rock, Paper, Scissors Championships. Apparently, this is a for-real thing. These people gather the best from the best all over the world and they come together each year for a major competition.

So, these people go through all kinds of training, coaching, and more. So my question is: why didn't these people ever come to Career Day in high school? I think they would have had a big response!

I'm a Dr. Phil Backup

noreply@blogspirit.com (Bryan Thompson) — Wed, 29 Mar 2006 21:30:00 -0600

So last week, Kristin had a question about parenting and after thinking it over and reading different perspectives, she decided to email the Dr. Phil Show and see if anyone would respond. She thought if nothing else, Dr. Frank Lawless (who is on Dr. Phil's board, author of "The ADD Answer," and is generally on every parenting-themed episode on the show), might even email her back.

And the next day, much to our surprise, we arrived home to get a call from a producer from the Dr. Phil Show. They wanted to interview both of us for an upcoming episode in the "Parenting 101" series. They wanted to get information from both of us and told us that we'd be hearing from them after their board meeting. They were in the process of interviewing other families witht different stories in their board meeting, and would apparently call the "chosen ones" who "made it."

That was two days ago. Apparently, they only call the ones who "make it" and I guess that makes us unofficially Dr. Phil's "Backups." Kinda sucks, I was looking forward to the experience, but what do you do?

And for the record, Dr. Frank Lawless still won't return my calls.

Technorati Tags :: Dr. Phil, Daytime Television, Blogosphere

NPR Light in Springfield, Missouri

noreply@blogspirit.com (Bryan Thompson) — Tue, 28 Mar 2006 20:39:55 -0600

I admit it, I'm an NPR junkie. That's right, I've joined with the millions of jazz musicians, progressives and centrists, political populists, pundits, and retired high-school band teachers all across the United States of America. When I was a Personnel Technician for one of the loneliest jobs on the planet - in one of the smallest, loneliest, and absolute most boring towns in this whole entire country - National Public Radio was my best friend. At 11:00 every morning, "Fresh Air with Terry Gross" was waiting for me, giving me intellectual stimulation as I drove through three actual towns and back - all within the lunch hour. Man, was my life sad!

And now that I'm back in the Midwest - and in a larger city - you'd think there'd me more to offer from the local NPR affiliates, right? Wrong! The one decent NPR station in this town spends most of its time playing nothing but classical music. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But, when Bartlesville, Oklahoma (pop. 35,000) AND Sneads, Florida (pop. 1,900!) has a thriving and active NPR station, and Springfield, Missouri - a metropolis compared to the previously mentioned towns - has three programs (all during business hours) and the rest is classical music, there's something fishy. Hmm, it's almost as if it's owned by Karl Rove. I'm not accusing. Just wondering...

Technorati Tags :: NPR, Blogosphere