CXXX. Shadetree Mechanics. November 12, 2024

>driving Lyft

>I pick up a guy at the Presbyterian Retirement Tower

>he is the size, shape and general appearance of Mickey Rooney circa 2010 

>but his demeanor is mostly Cotton Hill, Good Hank’s father

>he has a walker

>a hacking cough

>and one extremely bloodshot eye

>he starts talking the second he sits in the car

>and he barely pauses the whole time we are together

>He says “You’re taking me to the Southside to Connie’s auto parts

>”I don’t know if that’s what it’s called, but it’s Connie’s place and she’s been down there since 1973

>”I remember when she opened that place; she was the only woman around here who knew what the hell she was doing with a car

>”I need a timing belt and I need to talk to somebody who knows something about transmissions

>”I mean somebody I can REALLY talk to about it, not one of these damn shadetree mechanics around here

>”And Connie knows what she is talking about. What the hell are you listening to?”

>I say it’s called dubstep

>and I really dig it, though I can’t really articulate why

>Mickey Rooney likes it not

>he says “Why don’t you play some actual music?”

>I say “Well jeez, man, modern technology can play any song you wanna hear, so you tell me what actual music is”

>he says “Play Neil Diamond, ‘You’re So Sweet, Horseflies Keep Hangin’ Round Your Face’. Haven’t thought about that song in years”

>I type it in

>Mickey knows all the words

>sings most of them

>says “I used to sing this song to the ladies. My first wife loved this song. You can’t beat Neil Diamond for good music

>”but this ain’t Neil Diamond. I don’t know who it is, but they’re doing a good job with the song”

>dude what

>the hell it ain’t Neil Diamond

>Mickey says, “But it’s ok, it’s still a good song and you didn’t know. 

>”I can’t expect you to recognize Neil Diamond when you listen to that stuff you listen to”

>Youtube Music decides the next song should be “Volcano” by Jimmy Buffett

>Mickey says “I met Jimmy Buffett once; he was a great guy

>”It was 1977 and I was hanging out in a bar in Key West

>”I didn’t have much money so I asked the bartender what I could drink for cheap

>”He reached up to the top of the shelf and found this bottle of ouzo

>”He said nobody ever ordered it and I could have the whole bottle for a dollar

>”So I bought it and poured some and this guy down at the end of the bar said ‘hey lemme get some of that’

>”and the bartender said ‘No you’ve had enough, Jimmy!’

>”and it was Jimmy Buffett! Ha, ha! He looked like a homeless bum but he helped me drink that ouzo, he sure did!”

>we arrive at the auto parts store formerly known as Connie’s

>it’s closed

>whether for the day or forever I don’t know

>but Mickey has me unload his walker so he can go pound on the door and yell

>this should be the end of our interaction

>the ride is over

>I should leave him here

>but if I leave this Ancient of Days in the treeless parking lot of a closed auto parts store

>in ninety-degree heat

>he will most surely die

>and I will be the one that killed him

>so I put him back in the car

>Mickey says “if Connie’s is closed you have to take me somewhere else

>”I don’t have to worry about the transmission today but I gotta buy a timing belt

>”I have to fix my van so I can drive it down to Ft. Walton and clean out my daughter’s house

>”can’t trust none of these damn shadetree mechanics to do it

>”she just died of cancer; she was fifty and was an artist at FSU

>”she rented a house down in Ft. Walton and it’s full of sculptures and paintings and all sorts of crap

>”but now she’s not with us and my ex-wife don’t want the stuff and the landlady said she was going to throw it all out if I didn’t come get it”

>I say I am sorry to hear his daughter died, but I don’t think he hears me

>he says “Let’s go up to Gaines Street and see Bob—I know he’s gotta be open today”

>I say I will take him where he wants, but there ain’t no auto parts stores on Gaines Street

>it’s nothing but student apartments and restaurants now

>Mickey assures me Bob is still there and he knows right where to go

>he tells me to take a left on Wahnish Way

>we go through the heart of FAMU

>we pass the giant snake statue on the right

>I say “that’s another thing that’s changed. It’s not Wahnish Way anymore; they changed it to Althea Gibson Way”

>”Althea Gibson? Yeah I knew that woman. She was down here in the seventies and used to come in the shop all the time

>”she had money by then, so she was driving an MG, one of those fancy British cars

>”thing leaked everywhere. Didn’t do nothing but leak

>”I told her a bunch of times—a bunch of times—that she needed to go to Jacksonville and take it to an MG specialist

>”get a guy that knows what he’s doing, and he can fix that MG in fifteen minutes

>”but it’s specialized knowledge and you can’t give an MG to no damn shadetree mechanic and expect them to do anything with it

>”but that’s what she did; she found some old Black feller on the Southside that swore up and down that he could fix it”

>”so she took it to him, and it kept leaking just like I said it would

>”she’d come in the shop and buy something for it, take it down to that shadetree mechanic and he’d just make it leak worse

>”she probably spent a thousand dollars just on parts, but never did fix it and never did take it to Jacksonville far as I know”

>Gaines Street looms before us

>it’s nothing but restaurants and student apartments now

>though some parts are still under construction

>Mickey is visibly disappointed

>I drive down to the stadium end

>no Bob

>Mickey says “It must be at the other end of Gaines Street. Take me down there”

>no Bob down there either

>I say “I’m sorry, but I can’t drive you around all day, man

>”We gotta find somewhere for you to go”

>”Well shit, just any damn auto parts store then,” says Mickey

>so I take him to the Advance Auto Parts next to the Piggly Wiggly

>When I get him out of the car, Mickey hands me ten bucks

>says thanks for driving him around

>then he pulls down his lower eyelid and yells “Next time you see me, SALUTE THE FLAG!”

>turns out his eye isn’t bloodshot at all

>he’s wearing an American flag contact lens

>for what reason is anybody’s guess

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