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May 5, 2002
Tapping from a plane
headed for Chicago. When last I checked in, I was trapped at Hendrix
Motor by myself waiting for the RV to be fixed. I was feeling lower
than low and not a little sorry for myself. After I sent you that
email, I picked myself up, dusted myself off and walked into town. I
have lived alone for ages and spent many moons all by my lonesome but
for some reason, the fact that I was stuck in Portland by myself, made
me feel unbelievably pathetic. I watched happy Saturday morning
couples stroll past me with their dogs, young teenage girls out for
shopping and coffee and I wanted to go up to them and ask if they'd
hang out with me. Stopped a couple and asked them if they could
recommend a good place to eat breakfast and they thought I was a
Jehovah's Witness or trying to sell them something. I convinced them I
was just hungry and they pointed me in the direction of a deli a few
blocks away.
I saw a few "rock"
looking folks on their own reading cool magazines and thought about
approaching them (and possibly befriending them) but didn't. After a
yummy omelet and much needed caffeine boost, I felt worlds better and
had a leisurely stroll down 23rd street, stopping in shops along the
way to browse and hang out. After about two hours of this and pressies
for Glenn and Suzanne, I went back to the RV. I know I only left Glenn
and Zan yesterday, but I miss them already and wonder what they're up
to right now. Fred, the mechanic was still there and I told him that I
was going to take a nap in the back of the RV and if he needed to work
on the engine or come in the RV for anything, to come and go as he
pleases and not worry about me. He said okay. He knocked on the RV
door on his break and we chatted while he ate an orange.
Later, I was on the
phone with various pals about who could help me drive the RV across
the country. Tim from MiniBar is still a possibility but can only stay
out for two days until he has to return to LA for a gig and I would
rather have someone with me to drive the whole way. A Glenn lyric came
to mind "Calling every favour in / to help keep it afloat"….I was
calling every person I had ever met in my life and their brother to
see if anyone was available. I phoned my friend Mark in DC who asked
me "You mean to tell me that you're living in the RV IN THE REPAIR
SHOP'S BACKYARD?" I said, Yes and he replied, "You're insane!". Funny,
I don't think of it as the least bit unusual. Is that wrong?
In between phone
conversations, I picked up the Motley Crue autobiography. I'm
embarrassed over reading it but I love it. I hate the band, their
music, what they stand for, but I'm a sucker for rock stories and
dearly love the juiciness of this one. I think I'll make my own book
cover for it and put "The Pickwick Papers" on the front so people
won't judge me when they catch me reading it on the airplane. Anyhoo-I
was on the phone with my pal in Chicago, Doug. We were discussing the
depressing thought that I would be missing the Chicago gig and Doug
had agreed to pick up the pies my mom is making and that he would
deliver them to Glenn and Suzanne. As we were talking of pies, the RV
was being jacked up. I didn't panic, I knew it was Fred, starting to
take out the transmission. I know he didn't mind me being in the back
and I know that I didn't mind being there while he worked on the RV. I
made a joke to Doug that it was like being in an amusement park ride.
Little did I know that there would be no amusement in the coming
moments.
Just as soon as the RV
was jacked up, it suddenly dropped down and started to roll backwards.
I said some unprintable things to Doug and thought I'd better run to
the front to lunge on the brakes. Luckily, the RV stopped immediately.
I thought all was well and that the RV just needed to be repositioned,
which is what Fred was doing…until I heard Fred let out a
bloodcurdling yelp. I yelled out the window, "Fred! Are you okay?" and
he said, "Call 911!" I immediately told Doug I had to go. (Doug later
told me that he felt absolutely helpless over not being able to do
anything.) I ran outside onto the gravel in my bare feet, not even
noticing that I had jumped out of the RV onto a huge, painful stone
which wedged into my left foot. I turned the corner and saw Fred
pinned beneath the front wheel of the RV. Fred, clearly in agonizing
pain, said to me, "Put the block behind the wheel!" I frantically
grabbed a black piece of wood which I assumed was the block and asked
him which wheel (I hate being a girl, but there were four wheels on
the RV and I had no clue. Duh.) Fred was not comforted by my
ineptitude and snapped "Any of the ----ing back wheels." I hauled the
block and put it behind the back wheel and then ran into the office to
call 911. I yelled to Fred, "It's going to be alright Fred. The
ambulance will be here in a minute. Don't worry." Cold comfort, I
think.
My heart was ready to
leap out of my chest as I was running barefoot through the garage to
get to the office phone. I called 911 and could barely get the words
out, I was so panicked. I had to tell the ambulance where we were, but
I didn't know the address so I scrambled through the papers on the
desk to find out where I was. I found an old envelope with Hendrix
Motor's address on it and hurriedly gave it to the operator. She asked
me, "Can you speak to the victim from the phone?" I replied no, Fred
was outside in the back. She asked me for my cell phone number and
said that she would call me back and that she needed some questions
answered. I ran out to Fred as soon as I hung up. Fred had freed his
leg and foot from underneath the wheel and was laying down. I tried to
comfort him and told him that the ambulance was on its way. He asked
me to call his wife, but she had left from work already. He asked me
to call Dru, the owner's son, but I could only leave a message. I
could sense Fred's frustration and all we could do was wait for the
ambulance to come. The 911 operator phoned me back and had me ask Fred
more specific questions…where was his pain, can he breathe okay, etc…
I then hung up once I heard the sirens and went out front to direct
the paramedics to where Fred was laying.
Three fire trucks
arrived but I told them that Fred was no longer pinned beneath the
wheel, so they just sent the paramedics through to help him out. As
they tended to him, I tried to call Dru again, but got his voice mail.
I then called Glenn and Suzanne. I don't know why, but I did. They
weren't in. I just told them to call me because Fred hurt himself but
that he was okay. I walked over to the paramedics and asked if Fred
was okay. They said yes, that he probably broke his foot and ankle. I
actually heard Fred make a joke with the guys over something, which
was extremely comforting. The ambulance took Fred to the hospital and
as all the paramedics drove away, I just sat down in shock looking at
Fred's shoe wedged beneath the front wheel. After all the traumatizing
hub bub, I was left there in the yard feeling like a lemon. I just
thought to myself, "What the ---- just happened??" I then remembered
that my poor friend Doug must be worrying himself sick over not
knowing what was going on, so I called him.
Doug said, "Are you
okay?" and I suddenly became very tearful and freaked out. I told him
I was fine, gave him the short version of what happened and then
Suzanne rang. I was trying to explain what happened but had trouble
getting it out at first since I was trying not to completely lose it.
Of course, Zan and Glenn couldn't believe it and wanted to know if
Fred was okay. Feeling shaky, I sat down and told Zan, "You know, I'm
just a Squeeze fan. I want to quit now." I had had enough of the RV,
of Portland, of being by myself, of missing the Chicago show and
possibly missing the Dayton show since we have no idea if the RV will
be ready to go by Tuesday. (Fred injured himself before he had a
chance to remove the transmission and now it will have to be done
later rather than sooner.) I was just at the end of my tether. Zan was
trying to comfort me and said, "It'll be alright Amy. It's going to be
fine and once the RV is fixed, nothing else can go wrong with it." I
thought she was being optimistic and because I was feeling so
defeated, I said, "The ----ing RV is cursed." She told me to take it
easy, calm down and that she and Glenn would phone me later on. I then
went and laid down for a minute in the back of the RV to process the
surreal events of what just happened.
My friend Bob rang
saying that he would love to drive the RV across the country and that
he happens to be in Montana at the moment and that he could drive it
all by himself to rejoin Glenn in Dayton! This would be perfect since
Bob is from Dayton and was going to have to Greyhound it for 44 hours
back there and now he'll be able to drive the RV in comfort to his
hometown! As luck would have it, he is also a licensed truck driver
and feels completely comfortable driving a large vehicle and knows how
to work the RV and such. The best part of all is that he feels
entirely comfortable driving it by himself. I would've gladly helped
out, but after today's events, I want nothing more to do with the RV.
I loved the Cruisemaster before, but I can't get over the fact that it
may be cursed. I'm sure I'll love it again, but right now it is not
making me a happy bunny and I want to be as far away from that and as
close to Zan and Glenn as I can be. The RV is more like the "Bluesmaster".
Or, as my brother so rightly said, "The Cruisemaster neither cruises
nor masters anything."
Glenn phoned to see how
I was doing and said that he's come up with a plan. "Why don't we fly
you out of Portland as soon as possible so you can be with us and you
won't have to miss the gigs in Chicago and Dayton. We'll wait to fly
you back to Portland until we know that the RV is fixed 100% and then
you can drive it back to us on the east coast." I told him about my
friend Bob and he said that it seems too good to be true. Don't I know
it, but we need some good luck! He then asked if I was okay and I held
back from crying and managed to squeak out a 'yes'. He then said
sweetly, "We want you here with us!". And I nearly collapsed and said,
"You have no idea how badly I want to be with you guys right now." He
told me that after the Fred incident, he actually could manage to have
a pretty good idea on how badly I wanted to be in Wisconsin rather
than Portland. I said goodbye to Glenn and could tell he was trying to
cheer me up when he said, "Speak to you later…..potater." I always say
"later potater" and it was really cute that Glenn was saying it with
his crisply pronounced t's. I know it sounds dumb, but that made me
feel better.
I immediately got on the
phone to Doug and said, "Book the ----er! I'm coming home!". Doug
booked me an E ticket to Chicago leaving the next day. I then called a
guy named James, who is a friend of my friend Jeff from LA. James
lives in Portland and I figured, I don't care if this makes me seem
pathetic, I want a friend today. He said very kindly that he would
gladly be my friend and that he would be right over to come and get
me. I had to laugh over him asking me where I was. I told him "Hendrix
Motor" and he said, "Oh! That's where I get my car fixed! Where are
you, exactly?" and I said, "No, you don't understand, I'm living AT
Hendrix Motors." James said,
"You're kidding me! You're in the back in the yard?" Yes. But I wish I
didn't have to be.
James pulled up to get a
very unwashed, exhausted, dazed chick roadie and proceeded to take me
to a bar. I wanted the strongest drink ever and knowing that I'm a
cheap date, settled upon a watermelon martini. Oh, the sweet, calming
nectar. Nerves steadied, I unraveled the tale to a saucer-eyed James
who was unbelievably sweet and fun. Tired of talking of the RV and
flights
and cross country drives, we just sat and talked about music. James is
one informed, enthusiastic mother trucker and it was really enjoyable
rapping with him. He turned me onto a groovy band called the Mermen
and he later showed me his website:
www.phishhook.com/lists/cora. Feel free to go visit it if you're a
music fan! He even added our site to his links page. Sweet or what?
After martini number 3, his lovely girlfriend, Kate arrived. Kate
rocks. Kate is the salon coordinator for a cool hair salon in town
called "Hello Gorgeous". I said to Kate that it's a shame that I'm
leaving tomorrow on a Sunday since I would've LOVED to have gone in
for a cut and blow dry! (especially since I haven't washed my hair in
days.) She very sincerely said, "Why don't we go there now and I'll
wash your hair and blow it in straight! No charge!". I said, hell yeah
and we all stopped by Hello Gorgeous for further bonding.
I was extremely tipsy
(well, okay…I was drunk.) and feeling very much in need of TLC after
the stress of today's events. The glorious sensation of Kate brushing
out my clean hair and having the hot air blow in my face was immensely
comforting to me…like a mother cat licking its young. My naturally
curly locks are pesky and I felt like a straightened supermodel when
she was finished. After experiencing her magic touch, they allowed me
to go online and print out my confirmations for my flights the next
day, she gave me a complimentary bag of Hello Gorgeous treats and then
we continued the party back at my place…the RV! We traded painful
secrets and sang show tunes and they left me happy, giggly, exhausted
and feeling almost normal. I love James and Kate…they were strangers
hours earlier and now I'm actually thinking of visiting them in
Portland in the summer. The salon doesn't have a website but if you're
in Portland and want a damn fine do, then here are their details:
Hello Gorgeous
1930 NW Johnson
Portland, OR 97209
phone: 503-223-1050.
Went to sleep to the
pitter patter of the Portland rain and felt content knowing that in 8
hours, I would be on my way home to mom, homemade chicken and noodles
with mashed potatoes and pie. Life is good.
My flight was uneventful
and Doug was there to meet me in Chicago at baggage claim. I clung to
him and we drove happily to mom's for DINNER!!!!!!!!! As I was
immersed in a mountain of chicken and noodles that had my eyes
lighting up and my tummy saying, "HOWDY!", Dru phoned. He wanted to
tell me that Fred was alright. He merely bruised the muscles in his
foot, ankle and leg and will be right as rain in a week. Thank God! I
was wondering how he was
doing. I told Dru about meeting up with Kate and James the night
before and that I wanted to come back to Portland in the summer under
nicer, less stressful circumstances and he offered to take me out on
the Hendrix boat! Woo! I love how I have all these new pals. I can't
thank the folks at Hendrix enough for their kindness. It is not often
you find honest, lovely mechanic folk and dammit, they are honest and
lovely!
(update: Just got an
email from Fred who told me that he has to wear a plaster cast for a
month! If anyone wants to send him a get well card or a howdy to Dru,
Larry, Richard or any Hendrix Motor folks, here is the address: 1947
NW Overton Portland, OR 97209)
Glenn and Suzanne phoned
after the gig to tell me how it went. It sounded like it was swell but
we didn't talk long since they were on their way to a bar with some
newfound pals. I must admit to having a small pang of jealousy for not
being there but I was quite happy to be wrapped up in bed with my
purple pillow in my mom's house. (that doesn't have wheels.)
Rock On,
Amyx
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