Asleep At The Switch

Ah, ... the road can kill ya! Especially if you're retarded ... like me. Now, that's probably not politically correct anymore ... but I don't think it's extraditable.

Today, I had to head up to Payson, AZ from Phoenix. It was my last stop of the day and it represented the longest portion of the days driving. I love Arizona cactus photos ... so as I was driving through the Tonto National Forest with my mind in the clouds, I kept firing shots out the window. Just a cruisin'! Everythings cool. You know, ... it was one of those days when your sitting by the pool in a Speedo and you're thirsty but you don't wanna get up ... and the next thing you know ... you hear your granddaughter say, "Poppy, I brought you some lemonade ... uh, what's with the Speedo?" OK, I just said that to scare some of my relatives. Anyway ...

I'm just sayin' ... everything was great. Then I remembered that I was supposed to get gas before I left Phoenix. I looked down and saw the red light was on and gauge was already smiling proudly displaying the big E. This is not good because my usually-trusty GPS said I was 43 miles from the nearest gas station. So, I am still moving but I wasn't sure exactly how long this dance card was gonna last. Vultures were now circling.

So, it's the bottom of the eighth ... and I needed to go to my bullpen for a reliever. So let me explain. We are a large family ... and like other large families ... each member differs and we sometimes sarcastically compliment each other by accident. This is where my oldest daughter usually says, "Dad, different people do different things." Seriously Erin? Where's your mother?

So, I am sure you know that there are members of your family that you would call for certain situations ... and other members that well, ... FORGET IT!

So, I would like to use one of my lifelines. This time my life line call would be spent on our oldest son. Let's call him ... Braff Zackton!

Braff is actually is a very good call ... and a very bad call (cause I will pay bigtime) ... all rolled up into one speed dial. Braff actually works all day bailing people out of much worse disasters than this for a North American truck leasing company. Basically, Braff is a pro at this! He can talk long haul truckers with Alabama accents down from their big rigs all day. If you were in trouble and you had to call Braff at work ... he could get a helicopter to land in a snow storm on the road beside your crash scene with warm blueberry muffins and McDonalds coffee. GUARANTEED! And IF YOU were to call Braff when you were in trouble, you would get ALL THIS AND with courteous assistance and light-hearted humor. No strings attached (not me, I will pay for this for sure).

So, I call the bullpen ... and Braff has just arrived home from work. This means he's warmed up and ready to go. Braff quickly assesses the North American dialect of the caller and begins to talk the same way ... because he can. Soon you are thinking that you and Braff went to the same high school and had the same homeroom teacher. Braff could even tell ya stories about that kid with zits in the back of the class becoming the CEO of a worldwide banking company ... and you would really think you remember him.

So, Braff see's my caller ID and answers the phone with his usual, "Hey!"

With the phone crackling I start with, "Braff, I may be in trouble. I am running on empty, 43 miles south of Payson, Arizona, traveling Northbound on Highway 87. I need a gas station bad. Cell service is intermittent, ... so I may lose you."

"Dad, why are you calling me Braff?" Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz (lost cell service or hung up, I think hung up ... for sure ... he hung up).

So, anway, Braff got out his computer and linked to Skynet Delta Strike Force Idiot Tracker and had a Mobil gas station built 4 miles closer to me for my arrival. That's right. Braff had contractors begin and complete building a Mobil gas station right where I ran out of gas.

If you are familiar with Payson ... it's a downhill glide on 87 coming into town. I saw the engine light come on when I officially ran out of gas. Call it! Time of death 2:42pm. I was in neutral and coasting down hill with enough momentum that the car glided about 3/4 mile to the gas station including a small 180 degree turn onto the lot. The car came to rest at the pump ... with a bit of momentum to spare.

Braff said, "Goodbye Dad, you're lucky ... and retarded."

Another disaster averted and the vultures were left to fly elsewhere.

Thanks Braff. I know I will hear about this for the rest of my life.