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2. februar 2023 Epic

Curve Man School: A Real Education    

       Ula had asked Sven to go to Greenbush with him last week seeing as he knew Sven would appreciate a short road trip to a faraway burg unfamiliar to his daily self, not that Sven was unfamiliar to Greenbush at all, for many years ago he and Sven had participated in its annual 4th of July parade. Sven had the most fun in his adult life because he was dressed like a gorilla; something he had long dreamed of doing. Ula, typically, was the crazy white orangutan. Despite his antics, the nursing home float took First Prize.
 
Fun with Bananas


    Ula wanted to show off the car he had bought recently too, one of those oldie-but-goodie customized 2007 Toyota Avalons; a four-door sun-roofed sedan with extended leg room in the back seating area (and a push-button swing-out bar between the seats). “Uffda,” thought Sven, admiring its tuck and rolled white-grey leather seats and lavish interior. “This is bitchin’.”

A Reasonable Facsimile of Ula's Imitation Cadillac

    Nearing the curve east of The Tin Man’s, Ula pulled out an official looking document and handed it to Sven proclaiming that Sven was no longer merely ‘riding shotgun’ anymore on road trips, but had unwittingly acquired a new role, that of “Curve Man.”
    
    According to the documentation, "The Curve Man immediately assumes all communications
necessary i.e., talking, laughing, and/or hand-gesturing to convey a story or illustrate and object while the vehicle driver devotes his/hers/their total concentration to operation of the vehicle; turns, stops, or curves on dry or icy highways, snow-packed, dirt-based, or gravel roads.
     
    “Experience has shown that some drivers who attempt to talk and/or gesture incessantly during such maneuvers, exhibit tendencies to become inattentive, and react tardily prior to contact with a host of predicaments among them: the threat of black ice; slush, deep snow, mud, water across the road, errant wild or domestic animals, the ascendancy of a curve; or execution of a full stop or turn at T-intersections, or any situation requiring controlled follow-through well before situations arise that would cause the vehicle to become high-centered and tractionless in or along ditches far removed from on-coming assistance.
 
    Years ago when car and passengers were not regularly prepared for such events, especially in the winter months, many sadly experienced some very uncomfortable days and nights in their vehicles, chilled to the bone, curled up against car doors and against vinyl seat covers, their hair frozen to fogged-over windows; or they were forced to spoon with someone just as cold, offering no reciprocation of body warmth whatsoever. 
    
    Hence, Ula created the role of ‘Curve Man’ to guard against such dire circumstances, such as was the individual 'riding shotgun,' back in the 1800s, who guarded the passengers and valuable freight on stagecoach runs.

     Serendipitously, there exists an onboard supply of emergency items as standard equipment in all supersized 4-door imitation-Cadillac vehicles manufactured after 2006. This is the checklist:

  •     Two-cellphones, portable chargers, extra batteries
  •     Extra hats, coats, mittens, blankets plus handwarmers.
  •     Windshield brush scraper
  •     Two-Shovels; one long-handled
  •     Battery-powered G.P.S. with extra batteries
  •     Solar panel battery charging system
  •     Flashlight/headlamps with extra batteries
  •     5-10 gallons potable water  
  •     High caloric foods. 2000/day per person.
  •     Fire starters/kindling/Sterno
  •     Water purification filter system
  •     First aid kit, important medications, knives & sharpener, silverware
  •     40' tow straps, chains, 2-clevises, strong ropes
  •     Tireject* sealant for emergency tire repair
  •     12v 150psi air compressor
  •     Kitty litter or road salt
  •     Battery booster and jumper cables
  •     Hazard lights or other reflectors
  •     Bright colored flag, emergency flares; air-powered horn
  •     A can to melt snow for water
  •     Portable toilet & toilet paper, tarps
  •     Basic mechanic tool set, a hammer, and spare tire
    Arriving in Greenbush, the first they had to do was fill up on gasoline at the local Cenex station located just west of the railroad tracks and south of the Minnesota Sheep Palace. 
    Despite the gas pumps were located where arctic winds blew clouds of dust from passing grain trucks all the way to Middle River, Sven got out of the car to accompany Ula, as he fueled the car, because he was dressed head to toe for severe weather, just in case ... Things happen.

    Another of their things to do was visit a mutual friend at Life Care Manor too, who had become a recent resident there. They wanted to check in on her to see how she was fairing, so they spent about a half hour there assuring themselves of that very fact. Ula was very impressed that the woman remembered Sven's name right off; she smiled broadly and took Sven’s hand in hers; Ula, not so much ... what?
 
    Next was a quick swing to a liquor store establishment off Highway 11 where, upon leaving, a man whom Sven did not recognize seemingly recognized him, smiled, and called him by name, friendly like, “Sven!”

    Sven was taken aback, of course him being a long ways from home and all that, but admitted to the man quickly that although he seemed familiar he had forgotten his name as he was fraught to do on occasion at his age. "Yah, I seldom forget a face, but often forget a name, that’s the fact, Jack."

    "My name's not Jack," the man said smiling broadly, "It's Terry. He hurriedly looked for one of his business cards hidden away somewhere in the thick folds and wrinkles of his over-full leather billfold whence he gave Sven, himself nearing the frame of the exit door as if to depart from said establishment as he was.
    
    Pointing to Sven's nearing chest on its way to the door, by which he stood, Terry said, “Your name is on your jacket there!”
    
And so it was... "I had forgotten," Sven said looking down, chin to chest. "I only wear this jacket once or twice a year.”
    
    “I work on small engines," Terry said introductorily. “I fix lawnmowers, motorcycles, snowblowers, tractors, and the like.”
   
     To which Ula excitedly responded, “Yah but, do you work on Zündapps?”
    
    The owner at the cash register, herself quite a motorcycle aficionado, quickly tapped out an inquiry on her phone, “What’s a Zundapp?” Then she handed it to Terry, Sven and Ula's new-found friend. 
 
    "Zündapp was a major German motorcycle manufacturer founded in 1917 in Nuremberg by Fritz Neumeyer, together with the Friedrich Krupp AG and the machine tool manufacturer Thiel under the name "Zünder- und Apparatebau G.m.b.H." as a producer of detonators ...”
   
    Ula, grabbing his six pack of Guinness Extra Stout off the counter, strode toward the door hurried-like, thinking about something very very important, but in all the foofaraw of meeting Terry, he let it slip from his mental grasp. 
    
    Nonetheless, the social butterfly he naturally was, he took time to assure Terry he could well afford to have this antiquated machine restored to its previous 250cc, single cylinder glory (as long as Terry used used parts and adapted others to fit) and made a solemn promise to deliver said “Zündapp”in its entirety, to Terry’s little rural shop outside of Greenbush the very first thing come spring.
    
    Squeezing past him, excited about this discovery, Ula pointedly said to Sven, “Dis is great!” and waved goodbye to the lad.

   The store owner is likely to have said to Terry,
   “Yah, you’ll not see the likes of him again, you wanna bet?”
   “Fer shure,” Terry was just as likely to reply. “But that Sven guy is all right.”


   
Effortlessly, Ula turned his big old imitation-Cadillac east onto Highway 11 past the two billboards advertising Arnesen’s Resort at Rocky Point, and Leader Well Drilling in Newfolden, opposite the CHS Northland Grain Elevator. A dropping of pigeons, (not to be confused with pigeon droppings, although likely well in evidence as well) pivoted in the air to land on a high ledge on the tin building, Sven saw. They were all looking crazily about east, west, south, abuzz with excitement; some flew from their lofty perches and back again for no reason any of them knew.
       
    “This is a swell imitation-Cadillac,” Sven may have said to himself. “What a ride! I can only dream to ever own and operate a vehicle such as this myself someday.”
     
    The rock-solid Avalon fairly flew along Highway 11. Sven heard not a tinkle from its swing-out bar nor wheeze nor slosh from the two-week emergency food supply and road provisions stored in the underfloor storage area. Ula slowed the car to turn east on Roseau County Road 4, his right turn signal flashing, when it hit him like the outhouse door that he'd forgotten to pick up his wife, Loretta, at the high-end, bead and bracelet shop in Roseau, “I'll wait for you, love, at the corner of Violet & Pearl ...”' (So the local jingle goes).

    "I'M SO DEAD! I FORGOT TO PICK UP LORETAAA!" Ula wailed, cranking the steering wheel left to swerve back onto Highway 11 when Sven leapt into action, and assumed the Curve Man's role.  
 
"Hey Ula, I got a joke for you!  
 
“Ole and his neighbor, Lena, were talking about farming one morning. Ole began complaining about the high costs of fertilizer, and Lena asked why he didn't just use the night soil from the outhouse? Ole said, "Ya, well I used to, but I really hate shoveling it all out."

Now, Lena told Ole that she had a much easier way. Back in the war the army taught her all about munitions, and Lena said that a properly set charge could lift up and distribute the night soil over Sven's few acres.

Ole was intrigued. So one morning Lena came over to help Sven fertilize, and she carefully lowered sticks of dynamite through the outhouse hole. She set the fuse, and then they both ran to hide behind the truck.

Just then, Ole's wife Olga came running out of the house, and before Ole could stop her, she ran into the outhouse and slammed the door shut. Ole was running towards it when the charge blew, and the outhouse shot up into the air. Just like Lena said, a finely dispersed mist rained down, and the outhouse slammed back down to earth, landing right back where it started.

Ole yanked the door open, and said, "Olga! Are you alright?"

Olga said, "Ya. But, hoo boy, I'm glad I didn't let that one go in the house!"


   





   




Comments

  1. Sven alvays ends hiss stories vit a bang.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Another Sven and Ula classic!

    ReplyDelete
  3. The epic is a difficult form to master. You have a good start!

    ReplyDelete

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