MEMORABLE TRAGEDIES

   Our adventure begins as we start the journey home from a Memorial Service for the victims of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings in 1945. We had a great time demonstrating to the public. We even had police protection, though we didn't need it.
   We were driving north on the I-215 in Southern California. Myself, the Hippie Chic, Cecilia, and the Muse. The three of us were in the front seat and the Muse was riding in the rear of my 1974 Cadillac Hearse (Jezebelle). All was going well. We were laughing and chatting like normal, trying to decide the best route to Applebees since we were all famished.
   Gradually we started to feel a vibration from the rear of the car. I merely assumed it was coming from the road as the coach generally rides very smooth. As we aproached the I-10 east interchange, where we were to exit, the vibration increased dramatically.
   Suddenly there was a deafening explosion from the left rear of the car. The whole left rear corner dropped four inches and started making hideous noises. I glanced in my side mirror just in time to see the fender skirt and hubap exit stage left, like a ballistic missile, into traffic.
Now let me tell you that guiding a 7,500 lb. vehicle (with only three tires) full of slightly hystericl women armed with knitting needles is no easy chore. I gently guided my wounded hearse to the emergency lane and braked to a stop. I put on the emergency flashers and waited for an opportunity to open my door.
   As I exited the vehicle, to try and rescue the wayward pieces of my coach, I heard the Muse remark about how the vibrations from her vantage point were nearly orgasmic. I couldn't help but giggle as I watched the first of six cars run over my fender skirt. I began flagging cars into the other lane as the muse and Hippie Chic attempted to salvage my poor fender skirt. By the time it was finally pulled from the center of traffic it had travelled about a quarter of a mile (curteousy of six unlucky drivers) and was nearly as thin as paper.
   I decided as cars roared by inches from my face that I needed to get the car as close as possible to the curb. After limping my poor wounded beauty another eight inches off the road I began digging out the spare. Also not an easy task when the car has huge suicide doors that are trying to swing into traffic. I finally managed to get the spare free without getting killed. It even had air in it!
   After rolling the tire to the rear of the car it occured to me that a corset and full velvet skirt are not the best attire to change a flat in. So I went to the passeger side and opened the rear suicide door. I opened the compartment under the bier where the casket truck usually resides and pulled out my coveralls and lug wrench. I had a fully curtained dressing room with the door open as I pulled on my coveralls over my corset and skirt!
   Then I began digging for my jack. You really need a jack for this. I routed around a while before coming to the conclusion that my factory jack was MIA (Missing In Action). So we began to call people we knew had jacks big enough for the job on Cecilia's cell phone. (thanks Cecilia!) No one was home! AARGH!
   So, the Muse comes up with a plan. She calls her road side assistance people for a tow truck. Tow trucks have jacks! Turns out that their HeadQuarters are in Eastern Canada. The extremely friendly operator Ferren has no Idea where we are. After several minutes of explanation he has a tow truck on the way. The Muse even got an invitation to come and visit Ferren in Canada! I can't take her anywhere! SHEESH!
So we pull up a chunk of asphalt and wait. Being as we are the core group of the New Paradigm Knitting Circle (seethe link at the bottom of this page) Cecilia and the Muse begin to knit under the sickly green glow of the street light. We were laughing and chatting away when the Muse suddenly states that she feels like dancing.
   She throws her knitting back into the car and pulls out Motimer (my pet Skeleton) and begins dancing behind the car. Someone says all we lack is music so I jump in the car and turn on my CD player. The Hippie Chic opens the back door for better sound just as the Time Warp from Rocky Horror Picture Show comes on.
   So there we are, four of us in a broken down hearse dancing to the time warp on the side of the interstate as the cars go roaring by honking and flashing their lights! Who says flat tires can't be fun!?! When the music and hysterical laughter die down the tow truck shows up.
   Frank from Tri-City Towing was the best! He was such a good sport! I mean how many people would be brave enough to stop at a scene like that? Tow truck driver or not!
   Frank bring out a small floor jack and starts to jack up the car. My big boned Jezebelle just laughed at it! So he goes back and gets a BIG floor jack. He jacks the car up while I hold the brake to keep the car from rolling down the incline.
   We make small talk while he works. Turns out he used to be a Mortician! Now that's Irony! Seems to me like we got the right man for the job!
   After the spare is on the car and the shredded flat stowed away we begin to take care of the paper work. I think we kind of freaked him out a bit, but he was cool about it. We even got pictures of him with Mortimer and I behind the hearse. I will post them here as soon as I get them developed. Poor Mortimer, he was bone tired after all that dancing! (sorry, couldn't help it)
   We said goodbye to Frank, gave him an Oragami Peace Crane, and piled back in the hearse. Since we were all still starving we left Frank and our little road side party palace for Dennys. "Some days it's a good day to die, some days it's a good day to have breakfast at Dennys". (movie trivia!?)
Upon arriving at Dennys I could finally begin to mourn my coach's battle scars. We went in and found a table. Immediately after we sat down a girl at the next table asked us if we knew where Rocky Horror Picture Show was playing. Hmmm.. Too much Irony for one night I think.
So now I am on the hunt for a new fender skirt and hubcap for my hearse. Anyone have one lying around?