We made it home safe and sound. Kenny Loggins, though, proved to be a real pain in the ass. We discovered that the heater no longer worked a half hour into the trip but, because we were sort of bundled up and still in temperate lower New York, thought it wouldn't be a problem. Besides, what with the engine running and our combined body heat, the van had to warm up eventually, right?
Actually, no.
I don't know if you've ever ridden around in a moving van whose insulation was ripped out in order to make more room in the back for queen mattresses and oversized vanities, but I don't recommend it. At least not in Massachusetts in November. About halfway there my toes started aching with cold, and by the time we arrived at my aunt and uncle's house, I couldn't feel them at all. I thought coming back to New York would be better, since we were traveling while the sun was out and heading south, but the temperature had dropped to the 30s and we kept having to stop to warm up at gas stations and depressing, rural McDonalds.
And to make matters worse, Kenny's radio stopped working about an hour into the ride back. I know. Shitty. Car radios, I've found, actually encourage conversation, because they fill the silence and take pressure off the passengers. All we had was a whistle of air coming through the dash somewhere and the rattle of a toolbox in the back, lulling us into a meditation on the passing road and the nature of cold.
Anyway, we're back home, and despite this post and the last, I'm glad we went. This Thanksgiving would've been hard wherever I was, and it was really nice to have family and a fire and did I mention the hot tub?? There was a hot tub. And nothing alleviates I'm-about-to-explode bloat like hot water under a cool moon.
Now I have to go write a ten page paper. A paper! I haven't written a paper since 2003. Back then, though, it was whole treatises on Mongolian genetic proliferation and social networking among sexual deviants. This time around, I only have to discuss Sherman Alexie's What You Pawn I Will Redeem, and I still find myself at a loss. How do you fill ten pages without making things up? Do yourself a favor and go read it, it's really good. And if you can figure out what in the world the ending's about, shoot me an email.
Enough procrastination.
Go.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Insulation is Important
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3 comments:
i got home on Saturday, and on Sunday i spent half the day moving from the pool to the hot tub to the pool to the hot tub reading Mother Jones' articles on "is your adopted baby stolen from a poor Guatemalan family" and "can the Democrats usher in a new generation of progressive politics." as i sat in the hot hot water i thought of you. "it's too bad, Mir isn't out here in the hot hot water. LA might not be a bad place for her to visit." that was the whole thing: "Miranda should be in hot hot soothing water."
so. i was VERY glad to read your blog. although, it sounds like after a ride home with Kenny, you needed hot hot water in Manhattan.
Oh how glad I am to be in LA after reading this.
I have had many a cold ride in your Uncle Ted's various rigs over the years. I swear, the guy never gets cold. The good thing about Ted however, is having had to put up with a cold little sister, wife and daughter, all of his life, he has learned to carry lots of blankets. The last mid winter rode trip I took with Ted I crawled into a mummy sleeping bag and rode the whole way inside of it. It was great. It felt like I was in a cocoon.
Next time remember blankets and not the dirt variety used for moving.
Don't you love that hot tub? It's really cool when it is snowing.
ted drives vehicles without heat on purpose???
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