“They say the night is darkest right before the dawn….”
This has been one long, long bummer of a day. It started pretty early with a slight hangover and a long line at the post office and ended with me missing my gig in Arlington, VA and basically witnessing the sudden and decisive death of my van – my trusty steed. In between I felt the Puppeteer’s harsh, shaky hands yanking on my heartstrings over and over as I refused to let my situation break my spirit. Several times I thought I’d dodged a serious bullet that my luck was finally turning only to be brought back down to reality with a loud thud (or a scary clanking sound).
After the Post Office, I took the van in to get an oil change and to top off the transmission fluid, which I knew was low. I even sprung for the new wiper blades. I thought I was doing the right thing by taking care of this before I hit the road. The moment I pulled back out onto the street, I got a flat tire. Bad luck. But, then again, I was right near a fix-a-flat place so that was pretty lucky. $70 and two new used tires later, I was back out on the road already running late to get the hell out of NYC. Had to pick up Andy at his place and turn around to head towards Jersey and the Turnpike South. Still looking forward to the open road, I picked up Andy and turned around only to find myself in some bad, bad traffic. Waiting, waiting to try to get through the Holland Tunnel.
Finally, make it through and traffic starts to open up. I roll the windows down. It’s hot in the van because the AC stopped working ages ago. We’re listening to tunes and talking when all of a sudden the needle on engine gauge jumps to red. I start slowing down and turn on the heat to try to get out some of the hot air form the engine but it doesn’t work.
I pull off the highway and call a tow truck. It’s still pretty early. I think there’s still a good chance we can make the gig. We wait for about an hour and the tow truck comes. He takes us over to a nearby mechanic who hops up on the rig and looks under the hood.
“It’s probably the water pump. I can’t even really begin to look at it until tomorrow. You’re probably not going to find anyone around here that will even look at it today.”
My heart sinks a little bit as it starts to sink in that I’ve got a major repair ahead of me and I may not make it to the show in time. Luckily, the mechanic calls one of his buddies down the road. He says he’ll squeeze me in and to tow it down there.
We head down there and he gets the van right in. They start taking things apart and pretty soon he comes in and says, “It’s not the water heater. But you need new tubing and a new alternator” $500 and two hours later we’re back on the road. I think, well, we’re going to miss sound check, but we may just make it in time for the gig. We get near the onramp for the Turnpike and again the needle jumps to the red.
I turn back around and make it back to the garage. The mechanic comes out scratching his head and says, "well you may have blown the head gasket." Never mind that I had just spent $500 there. There was nothing he could really do. Maybe there were just air pockets in the system and we needed to add more water into the radiator. “It could be just that”, he said.
Or it could be the gasket, which pretty much means the van is scrap metal
We start filling it with water again and running the engine. The needle drops again and remains steady. I rev the engine and it stays steady.
“It looks like you may have gotten lucky”, he says.
We drive off and get on the Turnpike. We’re cruising, listening to tunes. I’m pretty sure we even high-fived. We were going to make it to the show. Forty miles down the road the need starts rising again. The needle gets into the red. I’m looking for an exit to pull off but there isn’t one in sight. Plus, the shoulder is closed for construction. Bad luck.
I drive the thing in the red for probably four more miles before there is an exit. I pull off and let the engine cool down. I add a lot more water to the radiator. At this point, I’m really not sure what to do.
I tried driving it again but the needle almost immediately jumped. I again pulled off at the next exit (and the last rest area on the NJ turnpike). I pulled around back and there appeared to be a service shop there. But it turns out they only change tires there. But the mechanic took a look under the hood and gave advice.
He said, “Well you can get towed or you can try to make it to a hotel and get towed from there in the morning” Seems like it’s the same either way. We drove another four miles to a hotel in a town called Carny’s Point, NJ. Or as the girl at the counter of this lovely motel called it “Ghettoville”.
I had to cancel the gig. I’m really disappointed. We’ve been looking forward to that show. We were going to see some old friends and we’d gotten some good press.
Tomorrow, I’m going to get the van towed to another mechanic and get a second opinion. I have a sneaking suspicion that this is the end of the line for my van. But if I have to crawl there, I’ll be in Philly tomorrow night!!!
