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This week: Edited by: Sophy  
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I'm Sophy ~ your Host for the Comedy Newsletter this week. As you read this newsletter, I'll be in the middle of a vacation to Utah, which will include a couple of long road trips there and back from my home in Illinois. So this week we'll talk about the comedy that can be found in long road trips!
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On the Road Again ...
As you read these words I am enjoying a vacation in Utah. My husband drove out to Utah from our home in Illinois with our dog on May 11. I flew out west to California for my mother's 80th birthday celebration on May 7, then drove east to Utah with my sister on May 12, where we met my husband in Moab to prepare for a five day rafting trip, which will just be finishing up as you are reading this. After the rafting trip, we plan to tour around a few of our other favorite beautiful Utah places before the long drive back home to Illinois after Memorial Day weekend.
I love long road trips. Sure, flying is faster (well, usually that's the idea, though lately, with flight cancellations and airport security, maybe not so much) -- but only a road trip will allow you the pleasure of touring the countryside with loved ones, arguing over the best route to take, sitting in a four-hour traffic jam on I-80 for no good reason, eating greasy fast food, and sleeping in scary motels in the middle of nowhere! What more fun could there be than that! 
The last time we were in Utah, back in the summer of 2005, our truck broke down on the beautiful Utah Scenic Byway 12. It was late Sunday morning, and we were trying to make it to our next campsite a couple hundred miles away. We broke down, literally, in the middle of nowhere on a two-lane road with very little traffic. It was hot, we were impatient and worried, arguing about what to do. Because we were traveling with Kayla, our large Yellow Lab, we didn't think a Good Samaritan would be willing to take all three of us into town for help. So my husband Bob wanted to leave me and the dog with the truck and pop-up trailer while he hitched a ride into the closest town. I didn't want to be left alone in the middle of nowhere for however long it might be with no cell service and little shade <insert "Deliverance" soundtrack about here>. Bob didn't want me to hitch a ride alone with strangers into town, with similar concerns for my safety that I had for his if he were to do the same. As we argued about what to do, two very nice couples stopped to ask if we needed help -- but we couldn't agree on who would ride with them, so we thanked them and sent them on their way.
Luckily for us, another vehicle stopped -- a rented minivan with a lovely couple from Canada. They were headed to the next town and when they heard of our plight and dilemma of who to leave behind with the truck and dog, they offered to take all three of us to to the next town. I asked, incredulously, "You don't mind taking the dog too?!?" And they laughed and said no they didn't mind, they loved dogs, plus it was a rental van so they didn't care! So we all got in their van and drove into town to get help. GOD BLESS CANADA!
Now let me tell you something about Utah in general. Unless you are in a large city, or a tourist destination, the entire state closes down on Sundays. But there are no large cities on Scenic Byway 12, so finding help would have been a challenge anyway. But on a Sunday? It would take a miracle for us to find help. Our lovely Canadians dropped us off at what appeared to be the only establishment in the next town that was open -- a convenience store/gas station. (They offered to take us further, but we didn't want to get too far from the truck, so we thanked them and they wished us luck as they headed to Moab.)
Assuming that further help would not be available for us until Monday morning, Bob went into the convenience store to ask for a recommendation for a mechanic that we might be able to get to help us out on Monday, and a motel that might accept us and our dog for the night. As luck would have it, the young woman behind the counter told Bob that her step-father was a mechanic and that she would call him and see if he could help us out today. Bob was shocked that it might even be possible for us to have the truck looked at that very afternoon, and after picking his jaw up off the floor he all but started to weep and begged her to call him. Her step-father said sure thing, and about 10 minutes later, arrived in a large tow truck.
We agreed that I would stay in the shady, grassy area next to the convenience store (I honestly believe it was the only shady place in the entire town). It had picnic tables, so I took a book, Kayla, her water dish, and some cash, and settled in to wait for however long it took to get the truck sorted out. After Bob left with the repair guy, Jerry, I used the payphone (our cell phones still weren't working) to let the campground know that we would be very late arriving that evening, or perhaps not even until Monday. Then I sat in the shade and read my book. An hour went by. Then another hour. During that time various interesting characters stopped at the convenience store for gas and/or supplies. Most were tourists on their way to someplace lovely, in their perfectly working automobiles, and some of them picnicked at a table near mine. Others were colorful locals, stopping by for milk or chips.
After almost three hours, as I began to get a bit nervous about whether or not Bob would ever return, a beat up old two-door Jeep pulled up in front of the picnic tables. A woman who looked like she might have stepped out of Haight Ashberry in the 60's leaned out of the car and asked, "Are you Sophy?" I said yes, thinking she had brought me a message of hope from Bob. She said, "Get in, Bob is at my husband's garage getting the truck fixed and they asked me to come pick you and Kayla up and bring you back to our place." I didn't know what to do. The woman knew my name, and Bob's name. She even knew the dog's name. So I figured she must be okay and that I should go with her. On the other hand, her car looked like it might not make it out of the parking lot, let alone back to their place. And what if this was some strange kidnapping plot I'd be stepping into? Maybe they had Bob bound and gagged and had tortured him to get my name in order to come out and grab me too? <insert "Deliverance" soundtrack again>.
But really, did I have any choice? Reluctantly I got into the Jeep with Kayla (which was no easy thing to do, considering every inch of the Jeep was filled with all kinds of junk) and off we went to hopefully meet Bob. When we turned off the main road onto a dirt road, and then drove through a large junk yard with dogs running back and forth, I admit that my heart ended up in my mouth and I heard the "Deliverance" music again. But Kayla seemed calm and very excited about it all, so I tried to relax and go with the flow. Soon we pulled into the driveway of a large home at the end of the junkyard, and there was our truck and pop-up trailer, and soon after that, Bob emerged from the garage, much to my great relief, not bound or gagged. And within half an hour we were on the road again, after Jerry had created a make-shift fix to our problem (something about a hose) which we could get fixed more permanently at our next stop. It seems Jerry used to work for NASA (seriously, we saw the pictures and stuff in his office), and could just about "jerry-rig" anything mechanical and get it working again. So as it turned out, we ended up finding probably the best mechanic we could find, anywhere, to deal with our problem. And he just happened to reside in the Middle of Nowhere, UT. A few hours later we arrived in Torrey, the truck still working fine, thankful to be at our destination, and even more thankful for the kindness of strangers, especially our NASA engineer and those lovely Canadians, found smack in the Middle of Nowhere, Utah.
So what about you? I bet you have some great stories about road trips! Or maybe you can take a road trip this summer and write about it. Chances are you'll find lots of opportunities for comedic writing on past and future road trips. I know I sure have many more stories I could tell. So write 'em down!
See y'all when I get back ... and wish us luck on our drive home! |
Here are some items from around the site about road trips -- some more recent than others, but all are funny! I had to find these items before I left on May 7, so hopefully the links are all still good! Please remember, if you enjoy them, let the author know by reviewing and rating the piece! 
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I got lots of great responses from my last newsletter about writing intentionally bad poetry.  Glad you all enjoyed it so much!
From Robert Waltz 
Sophy, good job with the bad poetry. As you know, I love all things twisted, but bad poetry is not something I've ever been able to do well. Come to think of it, neither is good poetry...
Glad you enjoyed it Robert, and give bad poetry a try sometime. You might be better at it than you think!
     
From katherine76
I remember when SLAM poetry first came to the site, I was a novice writer (still am) and didn't think I stood a chance up against the more seasoned writers. I wish I had done more back then because Pita and Fireant were both good friends of mine. Great newsletter!
Ah yes, the GOOD poetry SLAMS! Those were the good old days. The last one was hosted more than two years ago I think (I should know, I was one of the hosts, lol). Maybe all of the BAD poetry SLAMS did them in!
From spidey 
Thanks for the great newsletter on the art of writing bad poetry, and for choosing one of my poems! Writing bad poetry can be just as fun as reading it. Everyone should give it a try!
Thanks for having a great bad poem for me to share! And yes, everyone, do what Spidey says -- give it a try!
From billwilcox
Ah...SophY, this was one of those 'too-funny' newsletters. Reading the Editor's Picks brought back memories of the many great Slams we have had. It also reminded me a sci-fi 'bad' poem I wrote called, "The Long Lonely Voyage" .
Glad you liked it, Bill! And thanks for sharing your wisdom!
From Phyllis 
This is great - I really enjoyed reading it - but I am not enough of a "good poet" to want to attempt "bad poetry" - I'm not sure that what I try to write as "good" isn't really "bad"!
Oh balderdash, Mother dear! You are an excellent poet -- and I suspect there's a bad poet in there somewhere too!
From Katya the Poet 
This was lots of fun. Thanks for including me. It brought back great Pita memories, and all the good bad times!
Thank YOU for your brilliant advice!
That's all for now! Until next time, and on behalf of your other brilliant Comedy Newsletter Editors Melissa is fashionably late!   katherine76 Robert Waltz -- LAUGH ON! |
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Comedy: May 21, 2008 Issue [#2377]
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