Now what?

It's going to be a pleasant day in the Day's Inn: finishing Arcadia and finishing Rone's book, The Holy Man--both excellent books for days such as this, waiting for a tow truck driver from San Antonio.

I'm actually looking forward to a little nap, too, a day to transition, a day to wait for my tow-man.  What will be be like, I wonder?  Linda Jordon suggested that it could very well be a poet who's moonlighting as a tow truck driver.  Kathi said it could be a woman--which would probably make for better conversation for 300 miles.  But whoever it is, I'm ready for one last run at Operation Haul-Ass.  He/she won't arrive until at least 7:00 tonight, so I'll probably arrive wilted and bedraggled, well past my own curfew.  But the Mini will be parked safely at the Mini Center, and they will get me a loaner tomorrow.

What lessons does the "Universe have to offer" in times like these--as Becky suggested there must be one?

First, after three such long haul tows (due to the fact that Mini Coopers only have run-flat tires and no one stocks them but Mini dealers): Maybe it's time to say "I've had my trip" again--in the spirit of the line I mentioned miles ago from Trip To Bountiful.  Maybe it's time to consider a new car, one that uses the kinds of tires everybody stocks.  It will feel a bit like a divorce, trading in the Mini, but I'm not up for many more tows.

Second, maybe I should have had a flat tire in California, where Mini Centers are everywhere.  Can I ask for a re-do on a flat tire?

Third, maybe like Carlene says, I should just get home and figure that out later!

I've been listening to the voices of wisdom all along the trip: all of your voices and those I stumble upon on Wise People radio.  One of them said that to reach the frontiers of our lives we have to be willing "to hazard ourselves"--by which I think the speaker meant to risk taking risks.  I didn't know he meant flat tires, but that's way better than some that could have come my way.  Carlene always thinks of the things that could have been way worse, and she's right: It's not a wreck, for Pete's sake, it's just a big old warped tire on an otherwise sweet  little car.

My loyalty to Mini Coopers is frayed a little today, but I must admit when I look out at her, still, in the parking lot of the Days Inn, I have to smile.  We've had some great adventures together!