I needed new tires for the front of my truck. Why just the front? Because I got new tires about two years ago (maybe less, its really hard to say because this past year has been a long one). I do know that I was still walking with a cane and that it was still wintertime. I had to go all the way to Madison (about 60 miles away) because we had to use the Goodyear credit card. That time, we had everything pre-approved and I didn't need DG to go with me (his name is the only one on the card).
Well, March 2009, I was in the hospital for two weeks having a total knee replacement surgery. I heard countless times how much DG hated driving my truck. He has a full-size, two-door Chevy Silverado. I have a mid-size, four-door Chevy Colorado. Because mine is four-door, he had to drive mine to drive the kids anywhere. But I digress...
DG was driving my truck and somehow got a screw in the tire. No problem. He removed the screw and patched the tire. He's done it many times before. Except that now the tire has a slow leak. Every couple weeks (more in the cold weather), I would have to fill it with air.
A couple weeks ago, our son, Jase, was driving home after taking his girlfriend home. Up the street from our house, he slid on the slick road, ran a little into the freshly plowed-up snow on the side. No big deal... it happens. He came home and that was that... till the next morning when I discovered a completely flat tire. After the spare had been put on, DG examined the tire. There was a chunk of glass about the size of an index-finger fingernail. Not big, but it was a slice, not a small hole, and it couldn't be patched.
Well, that did it. I needed a new tire. Since we were going to have to get a new tire for that, we might as well get the new tire for the leaky side as well.
Here we are, in small-town Wisconsin with a Wal-Mart and no mall. There are a few small, independent tire stores, but not a single Goodyear shop. Long story short, we ended up going back to Madison. I had to order the tires because my Colorado doesn't have standard tires on it. Not my fault... we bought it used.
Here's a little nitpick, then on to the story involved in the title.
Both times my tires were damaged, I wasn't driving my truck. In fact, I was IN the hospital for the first one and sleeping at home for the other. And when the Goodyear guy asked if we wanted the "tire protection package", DG said, "Yeah, we better get that... you destroy your tires."
Hardly! I just wanted it out there that no- I did NOT destroy my tires. And yes, we got the tire protection package.
Onto the story...
My truck, my music. On the way up to Madison, we listened to the band Say Anything. Incidentally, their new album is also called "Say Anything". On the way back, I put in a CD called "Classical Thunder". I get these CDs every few weeks in the mail- with a "genuine leather-bound" book that details the music on the two-disc set. On this particular CD, when it reached track three... that's when the fun started.
Bach's "Toccota and Fugue in D-Minor" came on. You all know it. You probably have the opening notes as a ring tone on your phone. Its heavy with organ music and the fodder of the old-time silent horror films.
DG said, "This reminds me of Dracula."
Me: "That's because it was probably in one of those old black and white movies."
DG: "Yeah, like a silent movie. You know when they got the words up you have to read because they're not talking."
Me: "They're talking, we just can't hear it."
DG: "Well, no shit! And they show the women always like this-" He put the back of his hand on his forehead, his head tilted back and he let out a shrill, "OH!"
Me: "The damsel in distress."
The music picked up and took on an almost cheerful tone as it went on.
DG: "They killed the monster! They're so happy!"
Me: "It does sound like they're dancing."
DG: "In the square, you know, that town square. And the Gyp- Japanese- Not Japanese. You know, the people with the ladies and dancing?" He raised his hand up and moved it in a circle and said, "Whooooo!"
Me: "Gypsies?" (for the record, our German Shepherd's name is Gypsy- he says that word several times a day)
DG: "Yeah, the Gypsies. They're dancing with the scarves and everyone is having a good time." *heavy sigh* "Its a good thing they killed the monster."
When the next song came on- "Russian Dance" by Stravinsky, he exclaimed, "KING KONG!"
Me: "What the hell does King Kong have to do with anything?"
DG: "You know, it sounds like when he's in the bay, crushing buildings."
Me: "When did King Kong walk through a bay?"
Me: "Uh, you were talking about King Kong."
DG: "Same difference."
Then we got to "The Sea and Sinbad's Ship" and DG declared cheerfully: "BEES!" Where I put the ... is where he'd pause. There are a few times when I'd repeat what he said, just to keep the story going, but this is pretty much the conversation we had about the bees.
DG: "Oh, the bees! The bees! They're flying! Oh no! A bear! The bees are chasing the bear because he stole their honey! Run, bear! Sneak to the lake... he'll never make it in time. The bees will get him."
Me: "They'll get him? He's a bear."
DG: "They're in negotiations with a contract."
Me: "For what?"
DG: "For peace talks. Peace between the bear and the bees... They'll shake hands on it."
Me: "How is a bee going to shake hands with a bear?"
DG: "They got six hands! No, there's two to stand on, so they have four. Four hands to shake with, two to stand on... they gotta make a deal with the bear for a truce."
Me: "Does the bear have a cousin who is a lawyer?"
DG: "You know it... They have to get ready for the killer bees because there's going to be a gang-fight with the bumblebees. *loooong pause* Bees are fuzzy."
Me: "That they are. I bet you could make a coat out of them."
DG: "They're always cold."
Me: "They're wearing fur, how could they be cold?"
DG paused again. For a long time. Then he started to giggle.
"Imagine shaving a bee? They'd be shaved. Naked bees! They'd be so embarrassed!"
He started to laugh. Hysterically. When he laughs, if we can get him going, he can't stop. He'll laugh so hard that he can't catch his breath. He has to say "ooooh!" over and over to catch his breath. In between his words, he would try to catch his breath.
"Naked bees! *oooh* The other bees would make fun of them! *oooh* They're naked, with no clothes! *oooh* Standing there! *mmmmmm* Covering their privates! Naked bees! *oooh*..."
I said: "Their wings are transparent too."
DG caught his breath and said, "Oh... ooooh... they're trying to be sexy little critters with see-through wings."
He broke into laughter again. "When the killer bees come, they can send a naked bee out there. The killer bees will die laughing and they'll have a victory!"
After he caught his breath again, he discussed how these naked bees would have to lift weights to get buffed up. They have four arms, so they would have to lift four times as much. They'd start small, with grains of sand, then work their way to dirt, then to pebbles.
I asked why the bees would have to buff up if the killer bees would laugh to death.
He said: "Because what else are naked bees going to do?"
I said to him: "You know where this conversation is going, right?"
Me: "The blog."
DG: "I'll deny it. I'll deny saying anything!"
Me: "Who do you think they'll believe? Me or the guy who talked about rats with little Nike shoes?"
DG: "I wonder if bees wear shoes? No, they'd need gloves for their four hands. Shoes for the two feet. They don't need gloves in California."
Me: "What's in California?"
DG: "That Muscle Beach place, where the bees would lift sand weights."
I personally like how he denied this story, then wrapped it up with bees wearing shoes and working out in California.
When the next song started (Beethoven's "Symphony No. 9 in D Minor"), DG put his hand on his forehead and exclaimed: "OH!" as the damsel in distress.