218 lines
13 KiB
Plaintext
218 lines
13 KiB
Plaintext
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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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Idaho Has Its Revenge
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So it's around 10:30 on Friday night and we're making pretty good
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time. We made it from Portland to Boise in about six and a half hours.
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Boise isn't too bad, but Shaedow and I have decided that we really don't
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like Idaho as a whole. Driving through there the first time, on our way
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up to Oregon, we passed many towns that could easily be the setting for
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Deliverance and we had a few laughs by making inbreeding jokes that could
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just as easily have been the truth. "I'm gonna make you squeeel like a pig,
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boy," kept a' coming to mind.Every time Shaedow even said the word "Idaho"
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there was a very distinct tone of contempt in his voice. We stopped in Twin
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Falls to eat on our way up to Boise the first time and decided we hated
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Twin Falls and we were never going there again. The whole state was just
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way too po' dunk, redneck for me. Now that I think back, I shouldn't have
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laughed when Troy, our traveling companion, got three of his tires flattened
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while staying in Boise. I should have known it was a sign.
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So like I was saying, we're making good time. Shaedow is driving
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and I'm just thinking about all the shit I have to do when I get home. I'm
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a bit anal when it comes to getting things done, so I'm actually working
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out my schedule for the rest of the week in my head. I figured I'd get
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home by Saturday afternoon, so I would have plenty of time to study for
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my test on Monday and I may even get my painting assignments done a little
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early. As I'm flipping through my mental day-planner, I see it. Then we hit
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it. I'm not sure what it was but it made a none too pleasant noise when
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the bottom of the car nailed it.
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It takes me a few seconds to regain composure. Shaedow and I just
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look at each other, wondering what the hell that was when I smell the
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anti-freeze coming through the vents. Shaedow looks at the heat gauge and
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it holds itself steadily in the red. We pull over to see what kind of
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damage had been done. shaedow goes to the trunk for a flashlight and I
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go a few yards away to relieve myself. I'm walking back to the car,
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nearly getting my clothes ripped off by the closely passing semi trucks,
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when Shaedow says, "Hey. Do you want to see what we hit?"
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"Whaddya mean?" I ask as I walk to join him. I look under the front
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of the car to where he's shining the flashlight and my chin almost hit the
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ground. Evidently we had hit a huge block of wood and it wanted to come
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along for the ride, as it was embedded in the radiator, don't ask me how.
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I'm not very pleased with this situation. We're in bum fuck Egypt,
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right next to the sign pointing out the next exit that will take us to
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Wendell, Idaho. There are no signs of civilization in either direction so
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I am at a loss. I suggest that we wait for a pig to come by, but Shaedow
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isn't into it. At this point our options are to either inch it into Wendell
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and work it out from there, or try to make it 20 more miles to Twin Falls
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and risk blowing the car up. We decide to creep to Wendell. Fortunately for
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us there was a small town hiding in the trees which was comprised of a gas
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station, a towing garage, a small motel (with its neon "M" and "O" burned
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out), a bar and a movie theater. We leave the car at the gas station and
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haul all our shit to the "TEL" two blocks away. We get a room and decide
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to find out about the local mechanics in the morning.
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We watch a little T.V. and try to relax. After a while we, get to
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talking. Trying to make light of the situation, we come up with a theory
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about this block of wood we hit. We think that the Wendelltons put that
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block there in the road to beef up their economy a bit. Since no one can
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even see the town, they figure they can get some business by forcing
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hapless travelers into their town by destroying radiators. It makes
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sense to me.
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The light in this room is creepy and it's giving me a headache.
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We're getting up early so we shut it off...
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9:30 Saturday morning and my little alarm clock is beeping. We
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shower, pack up and check out. Again, we haul all our shit back to the
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car and begin looking through the phone book to find a garage. With little
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surprise we find that the only mechanic in Wendell doesn't work on
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Saturday's, so we just have to get it towed to Twin Falls where the guy
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at J.R. Miller said he would work on it.
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I'm' thinking, Okay. No problem. We get to Twin Falls, get the car
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fixed by this afternoon, we're back on the road by tonight and home by
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Sunday evening.
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"Just a minute," Idaho says, "I'm just getting started with you."
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A half an hour and $100 later, we are in Twin Falls, again. The
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towing guy said he had to dislodge the block of wood in order to tow the
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car and he left it at the gas station (they probably just want to stick
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it back out on the highway). That's kind of a drag since I thought that
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it would make a great souvenir. The J.R. Miller guy says that he can't
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do anything until he can find another radiator. He says the soonest he
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can get one is Monday, so we better get a rental car and a motel room.
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It takes me almost an hour to totally absorb the reality of the
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situation. I realize that I am going to miss my test on Monday, I am going
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to be behind in my photography, literature and ethics classes and I'm
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going to have to bust my ass to get my paintings turned in on time. But
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I finally accept it and begin to rearrange my mental day-planner.
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After getting a rental car, we go to the Denny's which is located
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right across the street from "Me 'n Ed's" pizza parlor. I'm not hungry,
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but Shaedow shovels down a Grand Slam breakfast in the two minutes it
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takes me to go to the bathroom. We decide to get a room at the Motel 6
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down the street, unload our shit and drive around town.
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After an hour or so of driving, we go back to the room for lack of
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anything better to do. Shaedow hooks up his laptop and sinks into his
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alternate reality and I sit on the bed and watch our free HBO, since I
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have no laptop. I call my mom so she doesn't start thinking that I died.
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Right before we went to bed, Shaedow committed the cardinal sin of bad
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luck situations. He looks at me and he says, "How much worse can it really
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get."
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Monday morning and J.R. Miller guy says that no one in town has a
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radiator for a Honda Civic, so he'll have to call a place in Nevada to
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have it sent in. It should be in by Tuesday and he can have us out of
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town by five o' clock. That was an instant headache. My heart sinks and
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my mental day-planner has a shit fit. Shaedow relates to me how odd it is
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that a town like Twin Falls wouldn't have a new radiator for a Honda
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somewhere. Right now I want nothing more than a bottle of tequila.
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Passing out for the next 24 hours is sounding better and better. After
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much whining and pleading with Shaedow to get me the hell out of this
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room for a little while, he agrees to take me to a movie. We go to THE
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theater to watch Happy Gilmore. Good flick. It lets out and the token
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punk rock kid of Twin Falls bums a smoke from Shaedow. We figured it was
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for the 16 year old girl hooked to his waist and it would probably get
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him laid.
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Tuesday afternoon and J.R. Miller guy just got the radiator. The
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only problem is that it's broken. He says he's going to have to call some
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place in Washington to get another one sent in for tomorrow. Now i'm getting
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pissed. We have already spent entirely too much time is this shitty little
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town that we swore never to return to. I just want to go home. That's simple
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enough, isn't it? I have been stuck in this room for three days and I am
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going to freak out if I don't get out! I try to appeal to Shaedow's sympathy,
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but then remember that he doesn't have any. So I annoy him until he agrees
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to take me out for coffee. I know I sound like a total nag, but keep in
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mind I have nothing to entertain me or keep me company. Nothing good on
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T.V. and Shaedow blocks me out completely when he's on the internet. So
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we're at the coffee shop and Shaedow bums a smoke to the token skater kid
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of Twin Falls. The kid acted like Shaedow had just given him a gold coin
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instead of cancer.
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We get back from the Blue Lakes Java shop and he goes right back to
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the laptop. So I start to contemplate the ever worsening situation. We
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must have died back on the highway, I think, because this is most definitely
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hell.
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Wednesday afternoon and J.R. Miller guy just got the radiator. The
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only problem is that it's for a stick shift, not an automatic. I'm going
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to scream or cry or go on a killing spree. I can't take this shit! Then I
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hear that he can still get us out by tonight, it'll just take a little
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longer. Okay, okay. Just do it.
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We drive in circles for almost four hours. Killing time in a small
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town is nearly impossible, but eventually five o' clock rolls around and
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we go to the garage. Just a little longer. A little longer. Little longer.
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Longer, longer, longer. Six thirty and J.R. Miller guy is looking everything
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over one more time before sending us on our merry way. I am on my toes
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waiting to get the okay to get the fuck out when his expression changes.
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He starts rubbing the top of the radiator like he's cleaning it. He's
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silent for almost two full minutes before he says, "This one's cracked."
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Then he goes into this explanation of how hard it is to find a used
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radiator and that he could have had us out of town on Monday if we had
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wanted a new one. I walked out and smoked three cigarettes before I could
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calmly deal with this. I finally go back in and Shaedow is discussing our
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options with the mechanic. I gather that we can wait till Friday or
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Saturday for another radiator, he could try to weld it shut ("But you
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just never know if it'll work or if it'll make a bigger hole"), or we
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could get some cold welding bond, which is like epoxy for automotive parts.
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We pay J.R. Miller guy and go to Target for some cold welding bond. The
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directions say it has to sit overnight to harden properly. SOMEBODY
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SHOOT ME!
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Thursday morning and the glue looks like it's holding pretty good.
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Shaedow put about three tablespoons of the glue on last night and it
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solidified like some petrified mass of snot. Shaedow calls his mom to let
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her know we were getting on our way. Before he hangs up with her, he says,
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"You really didn't have to tell me that."
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"Tell you what?" I ask, after he hangs up.
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"You know that town Buhl that's about five miles away?"
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"Yeah."
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"My mom said that she has a cousin there and he just happens to be
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a mechanic."
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I almost start to cry.
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We take the rental back and hit the road. I don't think I have
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ever been so excited to be on the highway in my life. We take it easy for
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the first hundred miles. We pull off to the Denny's in Pocatello and see
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that the glue is still holding. With nothing short of ecstasy, I hop back
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in the car ready to go on for the next ten hours. I don't want to stop
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until I am home (pee breaks and gas fill-ups aside, of course).
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Around four in the afternoon, we reach the state border. I crack a
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huge smile as I see the "Welcome To Wyoming" sign. I ask Shaedow, "Are
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you ready?'
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He smiles at me as we both turn around in our seats to give Idaho
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a long overdue, heartfelt middle finger.
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epilogue
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--------
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about six months later I get a call from Shadow late in the afternoon
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and he says, "You are never going to believe what I just saw on T.V."
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"What?" I ask. "There's this talk show about Wendell, Idaho and -get
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this- Wendell, Idaho is the Hokey Pokey capital of the world."
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- Wednesday
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