It’s not all about boats and readings. It’s about a magazine I was reading while I was waiting to do readings.
The New Yorker had an interesting article in the Jan 12, 2004 issue. Statistics cited in the article, but I’m sure are factual:
“(In a thirty-five-mph crash test, for instance, the driver of a Cadillac Escalade-the GM counterpart to the Lincoln Navigator-has a sixteen percent (16%) of a life threatening head injury, a twenty percent (20%) chance of a life threatening chest injury and a thirty-five percent (35%) chance of a leg injury. The same numbers in a Ford Windstar minivan-a vehicle engineered from the ground up, as opposed to simply being bolted onto a pickup frame-are, respectively, two percent, four percent and one percent.)”
Article’s figures, not mine. But I liked it. “I bought an SUV because it was safer!”
Wrong answer! You bought an SUV because it felt like it should be safer, but, alas, numbers indicate it’s not safer. In fact, it’s more dangerous. Plus, there’s another problem, touched on in that article, if the vehicle inspires confidence, then the driver is more inclined to drive like a jerk. Wait, that’s not news.
Memories
The deal with that casino boat, what I remember. It was years ago, a certain Leo had co-opted as a partner to get a group of us together to ride and work on gambling ship, based out of, as I recall, Houston. I booked a room for the night, a single, and went along for the ride.
I recalled sporadic details of the trip, other than it wasn’t financially rewarding in a big way. There were two salient and distinct points that burrowed into my memory and have subsequently come unearthed.
One was my first slot machine. Not quite the first, but I had that Leo show me a few tricks. Being a voodoo (tarot card) person herself, she pointed out how to win at slots. I actually made about ten bucks off a handful of quarters, maybe a little more. The trip itself cost about $40, so that ten bucks helped. As it turned out, that was the profit for the weekend.
I did, maybe, half a dozen “special discount for staff” readings at ten bucks a pop. I don’t recall specifics, but the staff – crew – was mostly Eastern European and mostly female and mostly stuck on the gaming ship. It could sail in and out of port, but the regular staff couldn’t leave the ship itself for whatever immigration rules.
Boarding that gaming ship – back then – the casino and the slots were all under, literally, lock and key. It wasn’t until the craft reached the international waters that the gates were lifted. I can still hear the rattling steel cages being rolled back, for some reason, an echo etched in my fallible grey cells.
The rumor, unverified, for the recent trip was the crew from this ship was treated much the same, kept on board for six days then allowed shore leave in Mexico, every Monday.
These memories kept rattling around, like the sound of the steel cages opening up, and I couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was the recent experience. I did, indeed, hear some strange tales. Picked up some excellent material to be recycled into scopes, too. Plus, there was something missing part of the weekend, and on that long drive home, I found it again.
For the first 80 miles or so, north out of Corpus Christi, I could get Texas Radio, a rather fetching local station with a very unique play list. I heard a new Flatlander’s song and some Junior Brown I’d never heard before. They didn’t stop for song identification, so I’m guessing, but the vocals on both those songs are distinctive enough – it’s not guesswork.
Jimmie Dale Gilmore sings about Dallas at night, how it looks like a jewel (“Dallas is like a rich man with a death wish in his eye”), but San Antonio has an orange glow, coming up I-37. And from the southern edge of SA on through to Austin, it’s all sprawl. In another 20 years? If growth continues unchecked? It will be one, long strip mall. “Frontage Road, TX.”
I’m sure there are few good stories, and while I was driving, I realized that I was getting my “mojo” back. I had one call Sunday afternoon that affirmed that.
While I was driving, once the radio station dropped off, I was left with my thoughts and the headlights. Plus a few deer. The moon play hide-and-seek in the cloud cover. I thought about three chapters to a novel, based on a casino boat. I lacked a hook, and as the night grew longer, I was more distracted with staying awake, avoiding roadkill, and turning in that rent car Monday morning.
