How Was Ray Davies? I Wish I Knew

In case you didn’t notice, there’s been no mention of the Ray Davies performance at First Avenue that I promised earlier this week. No blog posts from the show; no photos; no reviews.
The reason is simple – I didn’t make it up to Minneapolis this past Tuesday.
The day started off as normal. I saw my son off to school, did a little packing, and started to make my way out of town. First stop was Ernie November’s to pick up the new albums by Morrissey, Flaming Lips, and Tommy Keene. Unfortunately, the store wasn’t open yet so I made my way to Black Sheep to “wake up”. I downed a couple of drinks and read the Argus and USA Today before heading back to Ernie’s. That’s where the trouble began.
As I pulled out of Black Sheep, Ginger Lynn the Jeep sputtered and died. Thinking it was no big deal, I tried to start it again. It fired up…and then died again.
I called up my friends at the dealership, who promised me that they would do their best to get me on the road if I got it towed to their shop. So my next call went to Jim and Ron’s Towing, the city’s best towing company. I say that because I discovered when Jim picked me up that he was a fan of “Get Out of Town”, particularly when I went after city officials. He told his own story about beating the city – it seems that while he was under contract with the city for 24-hour towing services the same people took him to court for parking his tow truck at his residence. The judge laughed and threw it out of court, leading the city attorney to remark in the hallway, “we’ll just change the law”.
We finally get to the dealership, and after explaining the problem I had a seat in the waiting room. The next hour or so was pure hell. Not only had I left my Ipods in my car and had already read the newspapers spread out in the room, but I was anxious as hell to finally hit the road.
Around 11:30 I received the bad news. I needed a new fuel pump. Then even worse news – there wasn’t a fuel pump for a Jeep to be found in Sioux Falls. The next twenty minutes were on the cell – calls for a ride, to cancel my hotel room, and to the beautiful ladies I planned to hang with in the Cities. Then I headed home, destined for a boring day off with no capabilities to leave the house.
One would think the story ended there. Not in ultra-loser Hudson’s life. Two hours after picking up my “fixed” vehicle the next day, it died once again. Luckily, it started back up but the paranoia returned. It drove fine the rest of the night, but I still stopped at the garage the next day to check out the problem. The techs were in a meeting, though, so I made an appointment to come in the next day. A half-hour later, Ginger the Jeep died once again.
My buddy Jim had a nice laugh when his tow truck showed up at my office for another trip. This time it was a faulty “cam” (whatever that is). At least they gave me a loner this time, and four hours later Ginger was back in my possession. For how long nobody knows.


Anonymous said…
Next time, try a Chevy.
barbara said…
maybe you shouldn't name All of your possessions after porn stars
Scott said…
Porn stars are the only females who don't let me down. Hell, they're the only people that don't let me down.

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