If you're wondering about jeeps and Montana and what the heck this means I'll have to refer you to what a former company sales buddy said and what it means--I think. In his own way he was telling me some adventures have bumpy rides and so it was when my pooch, CeeCee, and I trekked across Interstate 70 from Dublin, Ohio toward Olathe, Kansas.
In the past couple months my Suburu Outback has had a fever of sorts. It began with a trip back home from Minnesota. As we neared Gary, Indiana(could there be a worse place) the service engine soon light came on but me, being ever the optimist, told myself the oil engine light was a figment of my imagination so I drove on. About three hours later, in Richmond, Indiana the car had a gigantic burp and I was forced to drive the last three hours to Dublin at 45 mph. The next day my vehicle service guru told me something about bearings and wheels and oil and all that jazz. I'm more than a numbskull when it comes to cars so I gave him the order; "fix it and how much is the bill?" After this I drove another two weeks when once again the service light glowed on my front dash. Back to the auto repair shop I went and was told I was down two quarts of oil. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I'd had the oil replaced only two weeks prior. Then, I was told an oil seal was broken. My response was, "fix it and how much is the bill?"
Yesterday, after we'd cruised along for three hours and nearing Indianapolis--------Yep. You guessed it. The oil light reappeared.
I don't know who first came up with the words, 'common sense' but I suspect we humans have the opportunity to make fateful decisions based on good or bad sense at least forty times daily. My suspicion is the bad outweighs the good by about 70% and this is when alcohol isn't involved. I, using my bad common sense told myself the glaring light was only a figment of my imagination so I drove another two hours to Terre Haute when good common sense intervened. Finding a Quik Lube I was told I was down two quarts. Considering it was only a few weeks ago I filled the oil pan to the brim my thought was "Uh Oh, I might need a new car. Either that or anticipate blowing an engine."
I then left town and took off and sped toward our landing spot for the night which was a Red Roof Inn in Columbia, Missouri. As an on the road salesman I'd stayed in these places probably 40% of the time. They were reasonably priced and clean and dogs stay free which I consider a bargain.
When I arrived at the motel I was told the price for the night would be only $61. To me this was a bargain. Common sense should have dictated another story. When I entered my room I noticed the security latch was missing. A bell went off in my head telling me, "oops! Something's not right but lacking common sense I quickly put that thought in the back room of my mental closet. Oh, there was no wifi, either. What motel doesn't have wifi----------unless.
An hour later, at 8 pm, I knew CeeCee needed her second BM walk of the day so as we were strolling along a man, around 40, approached me and asked, "Is that your support dog" and then he babbled incoherently about recently being released from a mental health center. My answer to him about the dog was, "Huh?" And then my eyes dropped down to his right hand and I'm asking myself, "Is he carrying a crack pipe?" Well, I made a quick skeedoo and walked around the corner of the motel to its back side. And before my wandering eyes what should appear but cooking grills in front of each motel room, clotheslines strung all about and bicycles, thirty or so, chained to a recently constructed Cyclone fence. It was then common sense should have dictated I put CeeCee in the car and we should hit I-70 while we were still breathing. But I didn't. Now, I understand the homeless need a place to stay and I fully know that the mentally ill also need to sleep. What I also know is I didn't want to die that night. Luckily for me CeeCee is still on daylight savings time so instead of rousting me out of her crate at six am she did it at five. At five fifteen we were in the car and on our way. You'd know I was serious about leaving quickly because I didn't stop to get a Red Roof cup of coffee. Me without morning coffee is like, well, it doesn't happen.
Leaving a trail of rubber in the Red Roof parking lot as I did showed, I believe, a great deal of common sense. Prove me wrong, please.
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