Just about a year ago,
I set out on the road,
Seeking my fame and fortune,
Looking for a pot of gold.
Things got bad and things got worse.
I guess you will know the tune.
Oh Lord, I’m stuck in Lodi again.
It wasn’t a year ago for us, it more like four years ago that we found ourselves stuck at this Escapees park in east Texas. Tracy had taken the truck in to have the fuel filters changed, and there was some delay, and we found ourselves stranded in a weird campground in a small, weird town, without a vehicle.
And here we are, again.
We haven’t lost our way or run out of songs to play, but the fuel filters have betrayed us once more. There’s one filter in a weird spot Tracy can’t reach, so he has to rely on stranger mechanics from across the country to change it; the last one forced the bolts and broke the housing, and now we’re stuck for a week, waiting for a new one to come in a shipment.
And I mean stuck. We left things in the truck we need, not knowing we’d not see it again for a while. We have no way to get out of the campground for groceries (the last time we tried to ride our bikes here, we got chased by dogs who were so scary we’re still talking about it). And, of course, the very reason we’re here: we have more appointments in Houston that all have been carefully scheduled long ago.
Our transportation options are laughable. Cabs: prolly more than $300 for a trip to Houston. Car rental: there’s one service in Livingston, and they canceled on us the day we needed it. Uber: there’s one driver, and his check engine light came on during Tracy’s one trip. Bus service: you have to submit an application by mail for a custom route, since there are no regular routes. I am not joking about this shit. Public transportation isn’t in anyone’s best interest here.
What have we been up to now that we’ve given up the idea of going anywhere for a week? In between rescheduling appointments, we’ve been buying a bunch of stuff online, of course! Even delayed packages will get to us now, so I’ve gotten to know the timing of UPS, FedEx, and the Prime van as they invariably hit the park office during the two hours it’s closed for lunch. For a crucial order—a replacement phone since mine crapped out—I camped beside the office, with my backpack full of paperwork to do and mug of tea, only to watch the FeEx van drive on by. I got him, though. Didn’t even spill ma tea.
You can see what a rip-roaring time this has been!
It’s so hard for us to be inside with all the windows blocked off against the heat that, ironically, we’ve moved outside, under the awning, sweating in the humidity and turning our faces against the occasional breeze that blows the recent rain right at us.
We’re running out of alcohol, and right when I’m drinking again to celebrate not having a deadly disease! I’ve been mixing our last bottle of booze, a lonely Triple Sec, with bottled lime juice and soda water. A desperate drink for desperate times.
We’re getting to know our neighbors. On one side is a friendly guy who identifies as a teamster first; he’s here to drive a truck route out of Houston and is chatty when he gets home in the evenings. We stand with him in the neutral ground between our two trailers, talking about fuel filters (he drives a Ram 3500 diesel as well) and his daughter back in Illinois with leukemia. You know when someone says, “She has three little ones” and puts his hand down by his hip to indicate their size, that’s getting directly into heartbreak territory. I have to look away until the topic changes to how much his grandma loved mockingbirds.
Another set of neighbors works here, the husband doing grounds work and feeding the stray cats who taunt Banjo, the wife manning the front office and making cute signs telling you to clean out the washing machine after you use it. Two barking dogs, whom they run beside their golf cart off leash in the evenings.
The Trump neighbors have a wooden cross in front of their Trump banner and one at the back of their site, and they wear shirts with crosses on them, just in case you missed the message. They very much want to chat as they walk by, with their two barking dogs who pull at their leashes to say hi to Banjo. 12/10, to be avoided.
And here we sit. Without the truck, the front of the trailer is prominent, with our steal-your-face license plate in its spot over the propane cover. We bought it because the bike rack on the front of the truck blocks the plate, so we move the real one to the rack and put this tie-dyed one in its place. When we’re places like here, though, tracy takes the rack off to make city parking easier and puts the hippy plate on the trailer where it’s normally fairly hidden. Not hidden now, though.
We were once talking with a guy at a gas station in Missoula, Montana, about stickers and signs on vehicles and wondered aloud what ours says about us.
“We come in peace is what it says,” he told us.
Dude, that’s exactly right.
If I only had a dollar
For every song I've sung,
Every time I've had to play
While people sat there drunk.
You know, I'd catch the next train
Back to where I live.
Oh Lord, I'm stuck in Lodi again.
Omg, as if cross wearing Trump neighbors and no air conditioning aren’t bad enough… you’re running out of booze? SOS! This is serious.
So sorry it’s all going wrong at once. Hope your vehicle repairs go smoothly, and more importantly… quickly.
🤞
Ooh I should clarify. I have nothing against crosses, but these people seem to really want to talk with us, and neither religion or politics are subjects I want to get into here. And we do have ac here, thank goodness! Things aren’t so bad – truck should be fixed in a couple of days. We’re both getting to the point of laughing. I did write this one morning, you might get a kick out of it:
Ballad of Shelly’s Health Updates
Come and listen to my story
‘Bout a girl named Shelly
She canceled all her plans,
Fairly dying to get healthy.
On her way to see a doctor
She sprained her bum knee
And took in some chiggers
And a biting’ ant colony.
Bad luck, that is. A black cloud.
Well, the first thing you know,
Microsoft makes delay.
Then her truck breaks down and she’s further waylaid.
Her test results confusing and the doc acts abusing
So she’s giving up reporting
To friends and family.
Blog posts, that is. Social Media. Arrivederci.
Well now it’s time to say goodbye to Shelly’s health updates.
She’d like to thank you folks for nare a placate.
You’re all invited back to her travel blog again
For heaping helping posts of adventure round the bend.
A proper blog again. Y’all come back now, ya hear?
I tried no to, but I snorted at the ant biting’ colony.
😉
Even Banjo looks like he’s over the heat. Hope you can hit up a liquor store soon! (Hit up, not hold up. Just to clarify. Though if measures do turn especially desperate…)
If we have to hit up anything, it’ll be one of our neighbors for their car keys so we can drive to a liquor store and buy stuff! We would not make good criminals.
Oh goodness! Good you were able to reschedule your appointments. Sometimes appointments can be hard to get and are booked out for a long time. Your song is fantastic! You are very talented.
Thanks, Charla!
As I review my own travels, the crappy, difficult, pain in the ass, scary and not so much fun parts have become some of the most treasured. Can you play 7th chords on that uke? The Ballad of Jed Clampett is pretty basic chords. Jus’ sayin’. Carry on.
Well said about your travels, and that’s a great attitude.
I’ve tried the ballad but I think it’s bar chords on the uke? I’ll look again.
Oh…also points for not going after the easy rhymes ie: arivivederci and placate. See…song writing is easy.
Ha! Your songs are art. This is a silly not-even cousin. Thanks for the encouragement, though!
Hahaha…art. Well…maybe Flatbed Trailer.
You can’t fool me.
True dat. And, I’ll have to ponder the puzzle you posed in the previous post. Always time for alliteration right?
Unusually for one of your posts, nothing here has made me want to visit this place… not even the bottle of Triple Sec (btw if I thought I had a life threatening illness I wouldn’t STOP drinking, just a tip) Did those mushrooms grow whilst you were awaiting Mr FedEx?
Yes, not an inspiring place, and with normal mushrooms that grew overnight. To clarify, I haven’t been following up on a suspicion of a life-threatening illness, just illness. I hear ya though!