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Archive Number 24 | ||
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Date: Fri, 13 Apr 2001 17:13:10 -0400
Thank You for kind thoughts I am not and do not wish to be a storyteller of any type, but I respect storytellers and love story and this list is about my favor use for story healing > I bet you're one of the "Closet Storytellers And, if a story > that you heard touched you in some way, and, wasn't necessary for you > to communicate to the Teller > > regardless of how matter of fact I may come across > > I have only opinions to share > > The best of good fortune > > your friend tomm Ghosts It's easy when you are seventeen to believe that cars are people and the Ghost was closer to me then most of the people that I knew when I was seventeen. The Ghost was a 46 Ford two door that had seen better days but what the heck at seventeen I had a lot of miles on me myself. Things were looking up for the Ghost what with a new coat of charcoal gray primer covering the body putty that covered the scars and dents of world traveling. There were those that thought that the name Gray Ghost was about that paint job but I knew that the name was about the way the Ghost drifted through the cool early morning mists when it was easier to be up and cruising then laying in bed sweating being seventeen and unable to sleep. I also knew that the name was about the way that the Ghost sort of hung in the back of your mind waiting to go traveling with you being able to transport you out of the world of teachers whose dry dying voices were burying you in the drifting dunes of boredom. One evening it could have been in late or early spring the one when the crickets came back and sang with the peeper frogs and the night birds The one when you can roll the window down again and cruise through the fading light in just a shirt with the collar turned up to show that you were one of the boys On a night just like that the Ghost and I pulled out of the yard leaving behind the old man deep in his tenth beer and the old lady yelling at him for it and for killing himself and what they once had between them with his drinking. Down the lane to the main road turning west into the setting sun the cool blast of rock and roll blowing away the noise and the cool air enticing me to start breathing again. The Ghost and I were free again free to move and explore other paths into our future. West we went the Ghost and I that night riding without having to know what we were thinking about. Maybe not even thinking until the Ghost started to talk to me. At first it was more of a feeling then a sound then as I turned the radio off I began to hear it clearly. The Ghost's valves were clicking I checked the oil gage it was down to twenty pounds. We were doing 60 miles per hour and there was only twenty pounds pressure and the valves were clicking and the ghost was hurtingThe Ghost had plenty of oil I knew it had plenty of oil I had just changed the oil and the filter I could remember hearing the old man and the old lady yelling at each other when I was under car doing it. It couldn't be the oil It had to be something else Maybe some old scum had worked it's way loose in the crank case and plugged a feeder line and the valves were clicking and the Ghost was hurting . If I got going fast enough maybe we could build enough pressure to blow the line clear There was enough oil I had just changed the oil sixty / sixty-five / seventy / eighty / ninety / ninety- three we're doing ninety-seven and the pressure was dropping and the valves were clicking and the valves were clacking and the Ghost was hurting. I flipped off the ignition popped it out of gear and coasted to a stop / I'm not sure how long I sat listening to the Ghost cool down and checking over in my mind what could be wrong before I started walking to the nearest phone. Drunk or sober the old man knew cars "Did you check the oil?" was the first thing he asked. "I already know it has plenty of oil " I said. "Already knowing can get you stuck in the worst way" he suggested, "I know I filled it before I left I yelled into the phone. "Check it out." he said "Already knowing can get you stuck in the worst way." "What do you know you old drunk " I asked. "I know that from the stream of oil that you left in the yard that you are leaking oil pretty bad " he said " Check it out already knowing can get you stuck in the worst way". The oil I took back with me that night was just what the Ghost needed and learning to not already know has helped me many times since. Sometimes when I ride with the ghosts of my past I remember to thank them for the things that I know that they taught me and for those things that I learned from them without knowing. Sometimes I even remember to thank them for all the things that they intended to teach and that they may not have had the best of tools to work with. | ||