Thursday, March 29, 2007

A Noble Quest -Gone, Somehow, Horribly Wrong

Well, the Rolling Home made a two-day foray into the Kingdom of Winnebago this week. It was supposed to be a three-day, laid-back kind of trip, but somehow the Force conspired on a number of fronts to make it not so.
I suppose I should start at the beginning, in which case I've already digressed, so I'll take us all back in time to January, and the promising beginning of a new and glorious year:
We were a bit nervous financially, because our water heater had stopped working, and we really had no idea how serious the problem was. So we travelled some 70 miles to an RV repair shop, and to our delight, found out it was a quick, 38-dollar fix. Very nice. So we happily paid the bill and headed to Wally World (because that's where RV'ers go when they're happy) to pick up a few things and head home.
We picked up a few things, got in the rig, then headed for the gas pumps to fill the tank, still happy, still smi...then it happened.
I know for a fact that sign posts are supposed to stay where they are planted...and normally they do, especially in Wally World. But this time, we were blatantly and unmercifully attacked by one of them: Blind-sided as I was making a perfectly-executed left turn. The sign post jumped into the middle of my lane and slammed itself into the rig, just as it entered my blind spot. Either that, or I took the turn too tight, but that makes no sense because I am an EXCELLENT driver.
Anyway, we still needed gas, so we headed for the pumps...a little more slowly and tentatively. After filling up and leaving the gas cap behind, we returned home, went to bed and tried to have happy thoughts about the nice new year ahead of us. (I subsequently was able to surreptitiously replace the gas cap without my wife finding out....uh...oh. This is on the Internet, right? Yeah....uhhh).
Anyway, the insurance guy came, did his thing, ball's in my court now...find somebody to fix it. Long story short, the Land of Winnebago is a few hours along the Freeway...time to set up a trip to go get an estimate. So here we are in late March, ready to do that, and take three days off work for the project so we can enjoy the environs of Winnebago Land in the process. Good plan. Arrangements made. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday off, so we can "get 'er done" (as we say here) and maybe find a tow car and visit some local attractions we've been wanting to see.
  • Monday...

Wake up kinda groggy. Wife says she's been up all night with the dog. Neither one could sleep because of all the thunder and lightening. Torrential rain. I hadn't noticed, but now I see rivers running around the back of the RV. So I turn on the Weather Channel. Flash floods in the Kingdom of Winnebago. Not goin' today...uh-uh. One day down the drain.

  • Tuesday...

OK. This will still be alright. Two days instead of three. We'll start nice and early...get 'er done (see above), still have a day for fun and car hunting. We hit the road...pick up the mail...grab a couple breakfast burritos, and eat them in the rig to save time...finish up...good to go. Turn the ignition...Turn the ignition......Turn...the......#$%##***............#$##***#####%&^&&***. Not only that, but %$#%%###***$#**!

Which is to say, the RV wouldn't start. It would click, but it wouldn't start. Click, click, click. #$##%%&, ##*#$#$%^&%%, #$#$%&**##*. Click, click, click.

"Hello, Good Sam?" Time to put that roadside assistance plan to work. Paid an arm and a leg for it. OK. Made the call. Nice young lady. Sounds friendly. Sympathetic. She'll get back to me soon.

Fifteen minutes...half hour. They're going to have to look out of town for a mechanic. OK. Half hour later...Someone will be on the way soon. No later than 1:30 this afternoon. O....OK.

Sit. Wait. Sit.

Mechanic's running a little late. OK.

Sit. Wait. Sit. Wait...

2:00 o'clock. Here he comes.

Bad starter. (We're in luck! Auto parts store right here! We go get the part. $200.00...with the core. O...uh...OK.)

$85.00 for the mechanic. .....ok.

Time to leave town...3:15. Day's shot. Into Almost Winnebago Land. Found a campground. Pretty tired. Did laundry. Slept in. Got papers...looked up cars, we'll call 'em after the estimate's done. Won't take too long. How long can it take to look over the damage and fill out the estimate? Right? Half hour...45 minutes. Tops.

Right.

We pull into the Kingdom of Winnebago. The Gatekeeper meets us at the entryway (actually he is paged by a fellow Gatekeeper not assigned to us, and arrives about 15 minutes later...this does not bode well). We fill out papers, I sign in several places...and now the papers go the The Master Winnebagan, who will prepare the estimate. "Just wait right there, and he'll be with you soon." (I've come to really dislike the word "soon". Its definition has evolved to mean "not soon", but people still say it as though it means "soon" in the original sense.)

We sit at the gates of the Kingdom, awaiting the Winnebagan. We sit, and sit, and sit. And finally the dog MUST go for "a walk" (universal euphemism, known by all pet owners). No sooner do we get to the square foot of available grass, than we see the Gatekeeper heading in our direction, out of breath, with a worried look on his face. The Master Winnebagan must speak with us. Now. We approach the rig only to see the M.W. half way back to his Keep. Alas, we've kept him waiting too long. How inconsiderate.

The Gatekeeper calls in supplication, and reluctantly the M.W. returns to our rig. The finish is all wrong. It's an old rig. He can't possibly match the color if he applies the Clearcoat. He doesn't HAVE to apply the clearcoat, but he apparently wants to apply the clearcoat, but then, we have to understand that the color won't match.

But you can match it without the clearcoat?

Yes but you see the UV protection won't be there.

What caused the color to fade?

UV.

And if you apply the Clearcoat the UV won't affect the new part?

Right.

But the old part will look really bad next to it?

Right.

But you can match the color perfectly if you don't apply the clearcoat?

Right.

So don't apply the clearcoat.

But I want to apply the clearcoat.

But then it won't match.

Right.

So why do you want to apply the clearcoat?

Because I take pride in my work.

But we want the colors to match. Don't apply the clearcoat.

Well...OK, but there won't be any UV protection.

Is there any on the rest of the rig?

No. That's why I can't match the color with clearcoat.

Right. No clearcoat. Match the colors.

OK.

OK.

You have everything else you need?

No, I just wanted to make sure you understood that before I went any further. I have to go back and get my measuring tape now.

And the Master Winnebagan returns to his lair in search of a measuring tape. We head for the rig. We look at the clock. We despair of both car purchase and visit to local attractions, and concentrate on where to get supper en rout back home.

Time passes.

I return to the Gatekeeper, to enquire about our estimate. As if by some Mystical Clairvoyance, the Master Winnebagan delivers the fruits of his labor to the Gatekeeper, only moments after my arrival in the office. It is nearly closing time.

I am handed the Sacred Papers, then accompanied to the Keeper of the Funds, where I pay another $98.00 to appease the Master Winnebagan for his efforts. I return to the rig with a piece of pink paper informing me the work will cost twice what the Insurance guy estimated, and that I will need to work out the difference before arranging for a Major Audience later this year. At that time, the Master Winnebagan and his Minions will execute the necessary repairs, provided all arrangements are in order. It will take several days. Perhaps I'll have a tow car by then. Let's hope.

Home again, Home again, Jigity-Jig. (I'm not sure where that came from originally, but I remember it from Blade Runner, and it seemed appropriate somehow). We stopped for ribs and beans. The dog ate well, we ate well, and there was some left over for lunch the next day. Pulled in around 11:00 pm. Had to work early next morning. But the rig didn't need any levelling.

So there was a silver lining after all.

Blog ya later.

Affectionately,

-Geezerguy

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Wow. Sounds like a lot of work.
You must've changed this. last time I tried to leave a note on here it wouldn't allow it.
I'm enjoying reading your postings. You sound happy.
-Ray

Parsley Words said...

My goodness, Geezerguy. It appears you have run afoul of a very powerful, yet obscure minor deity!

The Master Winnebagan and his minions (Winnebegites) have been the bane of many an Adventurer (Get it? Adventurer? Ha!) over the years. If you remember, we had to face a number of Winnebegites just to get the rig in the first place and after that harrowing experience, I did a little research. Here's the best way to speed up the process and get your Winnebago back in tip top shape:

1. Distract the Winnebagites with vicious attack-signs (these can be acquired at any Wally-World, as you may or may not have heard)

2. Use a Winnebago gas cap as a token to enter the presence of the Master Winnebagan (MUST be an original Winnebago part, no cheap replacements)

3. Mollify the Master Winnebagan by sacrificing a small pup tent or a camp stove

4. Complete the Estimate-Request form in triplicate, file the green copy with the closest Records-Minion, retain the pink copy for your records, and dispach the white original to the Lords of Insurance to be ignored or lost

5. Wait 60 days for a response

6. Complain about waiting 60 days and getting no response

7. Discover the white copy sitting in an addressed, stamped envelope in the back of the RV which you forgot to mail

8. Mail it this time

9. Wait 60 days for approval

10. Give up, and move to an ant-farm in Mongolia with what's left of your sanity

There! What could be simpler?

Alternatively, go buy a copy of "Zen and the Art of Turning Left" by Dale Earnhart Jr. and avoid all this stuff in the first place!



This is good stuff, Geezerguy! Sorry it took so long to comment on it, but you've seen how often I get my blog-face on! Take care!


-Sage Words

Rick & Karen Mittan said...

to market, to market
to buy a fat pig
home again, home again,
jiggity-jig
to market, to market
to buy a fat hog
home again, home again,
jiggity-jog

age-old nursery rhyme
:)
glad that was marcie with you and not me!