This story is (so far) my favourite.
Sorry Mr. Ingraham. A bit off topic, but I couldn't resist.
Bill wrote:
Last night my bride gets the truck axle deep
> in a ditch next to our driveway and a buddy tries to pull it out with his > dually to no avail. So
> what do you think did the job?........
>
> Yep that 41 year old Land Yacht!
Something similar happened to me a few years ago. Our local Mopar club visited a town half way to Austin, more or less, to visit with the Austin club. The place is called Wimberly and there had just been some record rains that caused extensive flooding in the area. Wimberly is a touristy place with lots of "antique" stores that a man could walk through a dozen of and not find one thing he'd part with a found dollar to buy. The spot was chosen to increase the amount of spouse participation. When most everyone else left my wife declared she had yet to begin to shop. So I took the Imperial up a road that went by a river I'd had driven o
n before. After the flooding it and the whole area was in pretty bad shape and I was looking for a way to safely turn the 58 around. They was a sharp curve in the road which the driver of an approaching VW cabriolet totally misjudged. He skidded to one side, over corrected and took a flying leap into the quagmire on the opposite side of the road from the river. It was like a scene from a movie. The car landed with a hefty splat, sending mud flying everywhere.
The movie turned out to be a comedy. My daily driver at that time was a VW cabriolet. When I drove the Imperial I was usually loaded for bear and this time was no exception. On cruises, in Mrs. Blueberry cavernous trunk would be a good set of tools, five gallons of gas, five gallons of water, a supplemental battery booster and tow rope. The driver of the VW got out of the car, really furious at the situation. He happened to be naked, for whatever reason. He was one of those thin, angry white guys, almost a hippie but with a violent disposition and a fondenes
s for narcotics that encouraged him to live in some mobile home gajillions of miles from anywhere. He promptly fell face forward into the mud. His companion, a woman, who was clothed gave up at this point and stomped through the mire towards myself and the Imperial.
The man also made his way to the Imperial. I told him before anything was going to happen he would have to put some clothes on. He blew up at this but I figured I held all the cards and a blustering, naked, mud covered man would eventually concede that this was the case. He squelched back to his car and tied to start the engine and drive out. Fat chance. More mud flew but little else. He donned some shorts and I got out the tow rope only to find it was too short for the peculiar circumstances. The woman suggested we go to his place and scrounge up some more rope. No other car had passed the spot and evening was coming on. We all went to his place, which was just as disreputable as I had imagined. He had nothing of use for the situation so we went to h
is landlord, a farmer, who seemed to have little use for his tenant but did have a nice Ford tractor. He negotiated a price for his services and demanded the money up front. I can only wonder why.
I took them back to their car, a distance of maybe three miles, and we waited for the tractor. My wife would still be shopping so I had no concerns except that there might not be enough room in the Imperial for all of her purchases. The Ford hove into view and the work to extricate the VW began in earnest. I didn't leave because you don't get to see something this funny every day. I offered them my tow rope but it was declined. Instead they attached their own chain to the handy hooks built into the VW for this purpose and the farmer drove his tractor into the muck. Well, of course, you have seen this coming all along. It, too, got stuck. It was getting darker and I considered leaving these people to their fate but I guess you just can't do that, can you?
The chain between the tractor and the VW was di
connected. We tied the rope to the chain and attached it between the Imperial and the tractor. The VW driver was arguing for his money back but I winked at the farmer and told him to give it to me, which he did. Keeping the Imperial on the road, the tractor was soon also back on terra firma. While the rope and chain combination was being attached to the VW by its driver, I gave the farmer bak his money. Fortunately the VW has a tow hook at both ends and I pulled him out backwards without too much further ado. The farmer thought his big knobbly tires would not work well on the road which is why he went into the mud in the first place. The VW driver was still not being very nice about the whole situation, but I guess that attitude is what got him into the situation in the first place. His female companion refused to ride with him anymore so he went home and I took her into Wimberly where she said she had friends.
I got back into Wimberly just as the stores were closing. My wife was still searching for the illusive,
impossible to find, eternally sought after, lovely thing. A few minutes later she showed up, empty handed of all things. She found to her dismay that the lovely thing she had seen in a store she had visited hours earlier was no longer available as the store had closed. Cheerfully enough she suggested we would have to make a return visit to get it, a round trip of let's say eighty miles at least. I readily agreed. If one has to accompany a shopaholic on her sprees, at least you should have an Imperial to do it in and the prospect of some first class entertainment.
Hugh
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