The rain here in Hoosierville is just unbelievable. It will be scorching hot and suddenly we’ll have torrential downpours and flash floods and inches of rain. Seriously, there’s been some damaging flooding in a few areas. What a mess.
We don’t have much of a place to park, and so I park my car in the drain area next to our driveway (I let my wife park hers in the driveway). We’re at the bottom of the hill. During one of these recent little floods my car interior was moistened by the rising floodwaters!!
This made me grievous. On Monday I rolled the windows down, hoping that the scorching noonday sun and stout breeze would reduce the sodden environment inside my car.
Which is all fine and good, except that I forgot about it that night and went to bed without rolling the windows up.
And was awakened around 2 in the morning by some exceedingly loud thunder and retina-searing flashes of lightning right in the backyard.
And I mean right in the backyard. Man it was loud. And if you’re oblivious to hints and foreshadowing, by this time it was raining buckets. My heart sank.
I like my car. It is an amazing machine. It is a Ford. It deserves to be treated better than I have been treating it.
I strode purposefully out into the deluge to see if I could rescue my car. The lightning lit up the neighborhood, revealing a forlorn Taurus poking up like a maroon island in the middle of a swirling sea. An island with windows, windows that were lowered all the way down. The water was not only backed up in the drain area, it was clear out on the road, covering most of the corner we live on.
I took off my shoes and waded out into the roiling tide. I opened the door and sat in the soaked driver’s seat. The entire interior was wet, the whole dash, every seat, the whole kit and kaboodle. I inserted the ignition key and started the powerful racing engine. I had to wait a few seconds before the transmission would engage into reverse (it’s part of my car’s personality), then when it finally took hold I eased it out of the lake into the river, then up onto the driveway behind my wife’s car.
Just for anyhow, I rolled up the windows.
I couldn’t go back to sleep after that, I was too emotionally disquieted. I tried reading for awhile, but my book was too exciting (Clancy’s Teeth of the Tiger). I finally put it down, still couldn’t go to sleep. At 5 a.m. I gave up, got up, and started working.
It’s a good thing I’m self unemployed.
Later in the morning I went out to inspect the damage. There was a lot of water in there.
I took a bucket and bailed and bailed. I sopped and mopped and water kept seeping and oozing. I finally went to the farm shop and used the wet/dry vac (I was interested in the “wet” mode obviously), that seemed to do the trick. So now I need to keep the car in the hot sun with the windows down for the next few days.
This being about 9 in the evening, however, you’ll need to excuse me. I have to go roll up the windows in my car for the night before I forget and Hoosierville hammers me with another monsoon.
10 Responses
July 19th, 2006 at 12:08 am
O-o-o-o-o-oh, that IS very heartwrenching. I feel your pain; I kid you not. I try to treat my car as I would a good friend, and I try to keep my friends from being blemished or injured for life. My sympathies indeed. In a few days I hope to read a happy sequel to this story and see pictures of a well-healed car.
I think you had better consider entrusting your car to the much-less-temperamental environment in Utopia. Not to mention that if you can have it here by Saturday and leave its doors open, the 106-degree-forecast temps and undoubtedly low humidity along with windgusts of 38 mph from the NNW (see Accuweather for zip 97321) would make quick work of dehydrating the stubborn areas. Since you are free to be self-employed as you wish, perhaps you could consider that an investment in your assets. Leave Hoosierville (sitting, of course, on a plastic moisture guard)Wednesday morning, drive three long days, and be here in time for Saturday’s furnace blasts.
The best to you and The Ford.
July 19th, 2006 at 12:16 am
Sounds like we escaped just in time. Good grief! I’ve had enough of thunderstorms and deluges to last me for quite a while. Your poor car…. We made it home safely at 2:00 a.m. Miss you
July 19th, 2006 at 7:46 pm
Is that why some cars have bucket seats? :lol:
July 19th, 2006 at 9:47 pm
Back in the day, Paul Smucker drove his little Datsun to Minnesota to visit his girlfriend. Being a Utopian like you, he left the car windows down overnight. We had a terrific thunderstorm, and the results were similar to yours.
I chuckled inside and later I married him.
July 20th, 2006 at 1:17 am
Thomas, You will get some rain here in Utopia, but my brother, you will never again have to worry about your poor car getting flooded like that. Yes, Ford’s deserve to be treated better than that, but since you “choose” to live where you do, your poor car just has to pay the price.
July 21st, 2006 at 8:50 am
…sorry, I’m laughing too hard right now to comment anything worthwhile…
July 22nd, 2006 at 3:50 pm
as pete from o brother where art thou said” that don’t make no sense.”
July 23rd, 2006 at 1:35 am
Dude, that is SO not what you want! Scary pictures, indeed.
The baritone
July 23rd, 2006 at 5:53 pm
I would think that this discouraging event required about 2 gallons of sweet iced tea to calm your nerves during the next day. {:^(
It has been somewhat the same kind of weather here in ol’virginny too; I do sympatize with you.
I wonder, what was the first thought that passed your sleep sodden mind when you first heard the thunder/rain and remembered that the windows were down on the Ford? (Been there, thought that!)
Hope the car dries out with no long lasting ill effects. {:^) (Since it is a Ford, it should take this unfortunate incident in stride.)
July 25th, 2006 at 1:37 am
I guess maybe “Ford” now stands for “Found On Road Drenched”, huh?