The Holiday Story of Flight 929.

For a brief second today, somewhere between 1:37 and 1:42pm, I was airborne… in a car. More specifically, I was airborne in my good friend Karla’s car. Even more specifically, I was airborne in my good friend Karla’s car… sailing calmly off a small cliff into a swamp. Now, if you know anything about automobiles, then you know that such vehicles are generally designed and intended to function at their peak when they are on the ground. You would also know that swamps and Mazda 929s do not play well together. The result? A car no longer functioning at its peak or playing well with others. Let’s elaborate, shall we?

I was on my way to Greenville for a late lunch at Coffee Underground with the awesome Chris White, all-around creative force to be reckoned with and really cool guy. Sadly… I stood him up. I apparently had an unscheduled lunch date with a house on wheels. Here, my faithful YourCreativityDollarsAtWork™ readers, is where we learn why SUVs were originally referred to as “off-road vehicles” prior to their American marketing makeover. Because it seems their sole purpose is to push other vehicles… off the road. Soccer moms driving vehicles that are larger than my living room is a bad, bad, bad idea. The 929? It didn’t stand a chance. It was like Thor picking a fight with your token neighborhood senior citizen. And so… tight curve… rainy conditions… 3 feet worth of SUV in my lane. I swerve. And you know the drill, once the tires kiss the shoulder… you get a science lesson in hydroplaning. Normally, it wouldn’t be a big deal. Of course, normally roads don’t have 12 foot embankments. So… airborne. In addition to our lesson in hydroplaning, we get a (bonus!) lesson in gravity. Off into the wild blue yonder. Most certainly a freeze-frame, Bo and Luke Duke, Hazard County, sticky situation-esque… moment.

And then? Ladies and gentlemen, aaaaahhhh… this is your captain speaking, aaaaaahhh… Mazda Flight 929 has arrived… at the bottom of the swamp. Sorry about the aaaahhh… bumpy landing. A quick glance out of the windows revealed that the car was in fact surrounded on all sides by water. Muddy, South Carolina red clay water. A quick analyzation of the situation using my superior reasoning skills revealed that this was not a good thing. Sitting in a vehicle that is not a boat and being surrounded by water is never really a winning situation. Especially when you’re 12 feet below the blacktop. I climbed up the embankment to the side of the road (never a good sign when you have to climb up onto the road post-accident), surveyed all that I had done, chased some wind, brandished my cell phone, called the parents, called AAA, and called a few friends. Then I stood in the rain and I laughed a lot.

The tow truck showed at 2:38pm and I got the tow truck driver by which all tow truck drivers from hence forth shall be measured. He did his best to hook the 929 up without physically getting in the water… and it actually worked. It took him almost an hour to fish the car out of the swamp, but he did so with precision and skill… and the funny. During the entire process, he sweet-talked his tow truck (I kid you not) with such great lines as, “come on girl, you know you don’t want to have to call for back-up” and “that’s it baby… you got it baby” and “you’re such a good girl.” Inside… I was having a laughter aneurysm and outside… I was soaking wet and trying to smile. The State Trooper showed at 3:45pm, I didn’t get a ticket (for once… in my life), and then we towed the 929 to the garage and headed to the hospital to see Karla… where I get the pleasure of saying, “by the way… um… you remember your car?” And then relating the whole play-by-play all over again. 

The end.

Eat some turkey. Hug your family. Go fly a car.