| CADDLE DRIVE '05 |
UPDATE - 12/15/05
In the beginning I considered myself a lucky man. My first encounter with e-tail went smoothly (thanks to
James). I am sure that I saved a considerable sum of money if you don't include transportation costs.
I shopped on eBay. I'm an eBay winner so they call me, though that could be debatable now. Please do
not misunderstand me; my online transaction was wonderfully executed. eBay hooked us up through
our private addresses and less than three days later I took position of a brand new 1960 MG, type A. I
call it the “fuckin' A.” BTW, the 1-9-6-0 is not the model number, it is the year, so it's not exactly off the
assembly line. It is however, fully restored and in really good condition for a 45 year old, if you know what
I mean.
The guy I purchased the car from lives in the tri-cities section of Washington in the city of Richland, which
I now realize is in the south-eastern area of the state. I made this startling discovery after trusting fellow
bar patrons advice that I should fly into Seattle on Saturday. Richland, they said, was a suberb of
Seattle. I booked the flight. It was the first baby step for what was once called Caddle Drive '05, and I look
back on it with fondness.
My traveling companion, let's call her Betty, and I left Birmingham the Saturday after Thanksgiving in our
quest for my holy grail, the “fuckin' A.” We arrived in Seattle 12 grueling hours later with only my laptop,
two leather jackets, and the clothes on our back. We had a plan that we'd worked out the night before,
while drunk. We'd get to Seattle and check into a nice hotel downtown. Then, because we'd been flying
for twelve hour and gone through a full security search four times, we would treat ourselves to a couple
of strong drinks and at the same time make a shopping list; mind you we had no toiletries or clothes,
then go shopping for a couple of changes of clothes and other necessities. We'd call the guy in the
burbs on Sunday, and make plans to pick up the “fuckin' A” Monday morning. Up to this point the plan
worked like a charm, sort of.
In the beginning I considered myself a lucky man. My first encounter with e-tail went smoothly (thanks to
James). I am sure that I saved a considerable sum of money if you don't include transportation costs.
I shopped on eBay. I'm an eBay winner so they call me, though that could be debatable now. Please do
not misunderstand me; my online transaction was wonderfully executed. eBay hooked us up through
our private addresses and less than three days later I took position of a brand new 1960 MG, type A. I
call it the “fuckin' A.” BTW, the 1-9-6-0 is not the model number, it is the year, so it's not exactly off the
assembly line. It is however, fully restored and in really good condition for a 45 year old, if you know what
I mean.
The guy I purchased the car from lives in the tri-cities section of Washington in the city of Richland, which
I now realize is in the south-eastern area of the state. I made this startling discovery after trusting fellow
bar patrons advice that I should fly into Seattle on Saturday. Richland, they said, was a suberb of
Seattle. I booked the flight. It was the first baby step for what was once called Caddle Drive '05, and I look
back on it with fondness.
My traveling companion, let's call her Betty, and I left Birmingham the Saturday after Thanksgiving in our
quest for my holy grail, the “fuckin' A.” We arrived in Seattle 12 grueling hours later with only my laptop,
two leather jackets, and the clothes on our back. We had a plan that we'd worked out the night before,
while drunk. We'd get to Seattle and check into a nice hotel downtown. Then, because we'd been flying
for twelve hour and gone through a full security search four times, we would treat ourselves to a couple
of strong drinks and at the same time make a shopping list; mind you we had no toiletries or clothes,
then go shopping for a couple of changes of clothes and other necessities. We'd call the guy in the
burbs on Sunday, and make plans to pick up the “fuckin' A” Monday morning. Up to this point the plan
worked like a charm, sort of.
Having not smoked but two cigarettes in the last twelve hours, we opted for a smoking cab. After several disgusting sneers from illegal
alien-foreigners we found a guy that would put up with our plague only if we opened the windows. We agreed and asked to be expressed
to a nice hotel downtown. The next thing I heard was "A one thousand dollar cash deposit for a room would be adequate; that would cover
two nights lodging". The room was beautiful, as it damn well should have been. I called the front desk and asked for a smoking
restaurant/bar and we were directed to a small Thai place a few blocks away. The Asian restaurants scotch bar was tended by Czech
ex-pat, we wisely ordered margarita's alternating with shots of McCallan and munched a coupe of ap's then went shopping, evidently
there was a Macy's close by.
Betty wouldn't try on clothes, nor did she know her size, the combination made purchasing said items difficult. She wandered off several
times, so instead of tracking her down I bought her a pair of jeans and a top, plus clothes for myself. We headed out of Macy's in search
of a CVS Pharmacy or Publix. We needed soap, for the body, mind and soul.
A ten-dollar cab ride later (I could of swore we went in a circle for fifteen minutes), we were deposited at a large CVS store not five blocks
from Macy's. There we secured shampoo, deodorant, toothbrushes, a battery charger for the camera batteries, and a bunch of other stuff,
all of which we loaded in a large Macy's bag. We looked like real first class citizens re-entering the Fairmont, filthy from our flight and
reeking of alcohol and cigarette smoke, we strode directly to the elevator and went to our room. There we cleaned up, put on our new
duds and returned to the smoker friendly Typhoon Restaurant for more booze, a bite to eat and more smoking. It was at Typhoon we
learned we were in the wrong part of the state (Seattle, northwest Washington, Richland, Southeast Washington). Oops.
So here we are on the Saturday after Thanksgiving, an entire state away from the be-loved MG, and the only flight to Richland cost well
over 2 grand each, no shit. We decided to make the best of our situation and started making plans to tour Seattle, promote Caddle, and
basically make the best of a bad situation. First things first, however, I called the concierge and had them make reservations on the first
flight to Richland Monday morning, only there was a problem. The only flight to Richland was Monday evening at 10pm. Our only other
choice was to fly early Monday morning to Yakima, Washington some 2 hours northeast of Richland and from there we could take a cab.
We opted for that plan, and the hotel booked our flight and made sure a Yakima cab would be awaiting our arrival. Now we could enjoy
our Sunday sight-seeing trip and not be concerned about the next leg of our bumpy trip.
After getting good nights sleep Saturday evening Betty and I awoke early for breakfast. In the lobby of the Fairmont hotel, two copies of the
Sunday New Times were awaiting us. We asked if smoking was allowed in the bar area of the restaurant, and learned much to our
surprise that it was. Armed we our Sunday papers we settled in. After about three hours, and more than a few mimosas we hopped a cab
and headed for the Space Needle. It was awesome. I've posted a pics from our Sunday jaunt on the web site, check them out. For the
most part the day went very well. After the Space Needle trip we headed back to Pike Street Market to catch the sights and grab a bite in a
small Sound café. The salmon chowder rocked. After a few cocktails we took a cab back to the hotel bar and hung there until we were
almost comatose. Back in the room Betty and I disagreed about hanging with the homeless, so she called me a tight ass and left the
hotel late Sunday evening. I still have not!
Heard from her other than a cryptic pic message with what appears to be a calendar with "Rusty" penciled in the square. On Tuesday of
that week a mutual friend said he'd talked with her and she was now in Telluride. If there any indigent folks there I am sure they now have
a new friend.
I awoke to the 4:30 wake up call, showered, packed what little I had, and headed to the airport. There I informed the ticket agent that Betty
would not be joining me for the trip. I lugged the laptop, a Macy's bag crammed with dirty clothes and toiletries, and the Caddle Drive '05
sign through security. An agent asked where I was from, I said Birmingham, Alabama, and he informed me that I had mis-spelled
Caddle, for a moment I thought about explaining, but dropped it without a second thought. About 5:30 that morning I learned the airplane
was running behind schedule and would have to be de-iced upon arrival. The 8:15 flight was now departing Portland at 9:30. Par for the
course. I was thankful it wasn't canceled.
alien-foreigners we found a guy that would put up with our plague only if we opened the windows. We agreed and asked to be expressed
to a nice hotel downtown. The next thing I heard was "A one thousand dollar cash deposit for a room would be adequate; that would cover
two nights lodging". The room was beautiful, as it damn well should have been. I called the front desk and asked for a smoking
restaurant/bar and we were directed to a small Thai place a few blocks away. The Asian restaurants scotch bar was tended by Czech
ex-pat, we wisely ordered margarita's alternating with shots of McCallan and munched a coupe of ap's then went shopping, evidently
there was a Macy's close by.
Betty wouldn't try on clothes, nor did she know her size, the combination made purchasing said items difficult. She wandered off several
times, so instead of tracking her down I bought her a pair of jeans and a top, plus clothes for myself. We headed out of Macy's in search
of a CVS Pharmacy or Publix. We needed soap, for the body, mind and soul.
A ten-dollar cab ride later (I could of swore we went in a circle for fifteen minutes), we were deposited at a large CVS store not five blocks
from Macy's. There we secured shampoo, deodorant, toothbrushes, a battery charger for the camera batteries, and a bunch of other stuff,
all of which we loaded in a large Macy's bag. We looked like real first class citizens re-entering the Fairmont, filthy from our flight and
reeking of alcohol and cigarette smoke, we strode directly to the elevator and went to our room. There we cleaned up, put on our new
duds and returned to the smoker friendly Typhoon Restaurant for more booze, a bite to eat and more smoking. It was at Typhoon we
learned we were in the wrong part of the state (Seattle, northwest Washington, Richland, Southeast Washington). Oops.
So here we are on the Saturday after Thanksgiving, an entire state away from the be-loved MG, and the only flight to Richland cost well
over 2 grand each, no shit. We decided to make the best of our situation and started making plans to tour Seattle, promote Caddle, and
basically make the best of a bad situation. First things first, however, I called the concierge and had them make reservations on the first
flight to Richland Monday morning, only there was a problem. The only flight to Richland was Monday evening at 10pm. Our only other
choice was to fly early Monday morning to Yakima, Washington some 2 hours northeast of Richland and from there we could take a cab.
We opted for that plan, and the hotel booked our flight and made sure a Yakima cab would be awaiting our arrival. Now we could enjoy
our Sunday sight-seeing trip and not be concerned about the next leg of our bumpy trip.
After getting good nights sleep Saturday evening Betty and I awoke early for breakfast. In the lobby of the Fairmont hotel, two copies of the
Sunday New Times were awaiting us. We asked if smoking was allowed in the bar area of the restaurant, and learned much to our
surprise that it was. Armed we our Sunday papers we settled in. After about three hours, and more than a few mimosas we hopped a cab
and headed for the Space Needle. It was awesome. I've posted a pics from our Sunday jaunt on the web site, check them out. For the
most part the day went very well. After the Space Needle trip we headed back to Pike Street Market to catch the sights and grab a bite in a
small Sound café. The salmon chowder rocked. After a few cocktails we took a cab back to the hotel bar and hung there until we were
almost comatose. Back in the room Betty and I disagreed about hanging with the homeless, so she called me a tight ass and left the
hotel late Sunday evening. I still have not!
Heard from her other than a cryptic pic message with what appears to be a calendar with "Rusty" penciled in the square. On Tuesday of
that week a mutual friend said he'd talked with her and she was now in Telluride. If there any indigent folks there I am sure they now have
a new friend.
I awoke to the 4:30 wake up call, showered, packed what little I had, and headed to the airport. There I informed the ticket agent that Betty
would not be joining me for the trip. I lugged the laptop, a Macy's bag crammed with dirty clothes and toiletries, and the Caddle Drive '05
sign through security. An agent asked where I was from, I said Birmingham, Alabama, and he informed me that I had mis-spelled
Caddle, for a moment I thought about explaining, but dropped it without a second thought. About 5:30 that morning I learned the airplane
was running behind schedule and would have to be de-iced upon arrival. The 8:15 flight was now departing Portland at 9:30. Par for the
course. I was thankful it wasn't canceled.
DAY 1
Sunday, November 27, 2005 Dateline Seattle
Caddle Drive '05 got off to a shaky start. After a flight from hell, three plane changes, the last of which loaded with the most fertile women
in the US, complete with approximately 40 screaming infants terrible', and add to the mix a raving malato that immediately hated Kate (
and even verbalized it but ended up inviting the two of us to spend the night at his house), whew, we finally arrived at SEATAC. After
smoking two packs of cigarettes, we hopped a cab into downtown Seattle for the amazingly reasonable fare of 50 bucks. With no luggage
(we left Birmingham with only the clothes on our backs and our cell phones, not even a tooth brush), we checked into a lovely place called
the Fairmont. Our first priorities were vittles, cocktails, deodorant and some new clothes.
After stumbling around downtown' in search of a place that served food and allowed smoking, we discovered a funky little Thai restaurant
named Typhoon, with a high end scotch bar tended by an amiable Czech. We immediately ordered margarita's. It seemed appropriate.
After paying the tab we asked for directions to Macy's. There, on a full stomach, we got some new clothes, and promptly returned to
Typhoon, this time shooting tequila with the Czech guy, Lebon, till we couldn't see, we give Typhoon four and a half Cows, and the hotel
Five Cows, if for no other reason, as we discovered this morning, they serve pancakes in the form of Teddy Bears. With love in our hearts
and Caddle on our mind we bid you adieu, it's time for breakfast, we'll Czech in later today.
- Kate and Rusty
Sunday, November 27, 2005 Dateline Seattle
Caddle Drive '05 got off to a shaky start. After a flight from hell, three plane changes, the last of which loaded with the most fertile women
in the US, complete with approximately 40 screaming infants terrible', and add to the mix a raving malato that immediately hated Kate (
and even verbalized it but ended up inviting the two of us to spend the night at his house), whew, we finally arrived at SEATAC. After
smoking two packs of cigarettes, we hopped a cab into downtown Seattle for the amazingly reasonable fare of 50 bucks. With no luggage
(we left Birmingham with only the clothes on our backs and our cell phones, not even a tooth brush), we checked into a lovely place called
the Fairmont. Our first priorities were vittles, cocktails, deodorant and some new clothes.
After stumbling around downtown' in search of a place that served food and allowed smoking, we discovered a funky little Thai restaurant
named Typhoon, with a high end scotch bar tended by an amiable Czech. We immediately ordered margarita's. It seemed appropriate.
After paying the tab we asked for directions to Macy's. There, on a full stomach, we got some new clothes, and promptly returned to
Typhoon, this time shooting tequila with the Czech guy, Lebon, till we couldn't see, we give Typhoon four and a half Cows, and the hotel
Five Cows, if for no other reason, as we discovered this morning, they serve pancakes in the form of Teddy Bears. With love in our hearts
and Caddle on our mind we bid you adieu, it's time for breakfast, we'll Czech in later today.
- Kate and Rusty
DAY 2
November 28, 2005 - SEA-TAC Airport 5:42am
Yesterday was one incredible incident after another. Breakfast at the hotel, the Space Needle around lunch, then the Pike Street Fish
Market. Later, a small Puget Sound seafood café, still later, the bar at the hotel. As Rod Stewart once said, "every picture tells a story",
and the antics of the past 36 hours would fill at least a chapter of any best selling book. Sorry I don't have pictures yet, I mistakenly left the
USB cable as well as the software that would allow me to transfer the photos to my computer in Birmingham. Never fear, Fedex to the
rescue, I should have all the needed stuff by the time I reach southern Oregon.
Sorry to say, Kate is no longer a traveling companion, seems she has other priorities, I wish her well, besides, she's an avid Caddle fan.
I'll have much more on that later.
My travel agent flew us into Seattle, thinking we were traveling to Richmond, WA, BUT, the final destination is Richland, WA, about 200
bucks southeast of Seattle. My flight to Yakima, WA leaves in two hours, 8:20am, once there, I'm still a hefty cab fare away from Richland,
but if all goes as planned (nothing has so far) I should be picking up the car for the "Drive" portion of the of this tour. Even though things
have been rather screwy, I am having a wonderful time.
I look forward to todays events, if nothing else, I will at least pick up the MGA and be on the road, and that in and of itself is a blessing. I'll
try to update later today. And be patient, some great photos are coming soon. Caddle Drive '05 continues...albeit minus a navigator.
Love to all,
Rusty
November 28, 2005 - SEA-TAC Airport 5:42am
Yesterday was one incredible incident after another. Breakfast at the hotel, the Space Needle around lunch, then the Pike Street Fish
Market. Later, a small Puget Sound seafood café, still later, the bar at the hotel. As Rod Stewart once said, "every picture tells a story",
and the antics of the past 36 hours would fill at least a chapter of any best selling book. Sorry I don't have pictures yet, I mistakenly left the
USB cable as well as the software that would allow me to transfer the photos to my computer in Birmingham. Never fear, Fedex to the
rescue, I should have all the needed stuff by the time I reach southern Oregon.
Sorry to say, Kate is no longer a traveling companion, seems she has other priorities, I wish her well, besides, she's an avid Caddle fan.
I'll have much more on that later.
My travel agent flew us into Seattle, thinking we were traveling to Richmond, WA, BUT, the final destination is Richland, WA, about 200
bucks southeast of Seattle. My flight to Yakima, WA leaves in two hours, 8:20am, once there, I'm still a hefty cab fare away from Richland,
but if all goes as planned (nothing has so far) I should be picking up the car for the "Drive" portion of the of this tour. Even though things
have been rather screwy, I am having a wonderful time.
I look forward to todays events, if nothing else, I will at least pick up the MGA and be on the road, and that in and of itself is a blessing. I'll
try to update later today. And be patient, some great photos are coming soon. Caddle Drive '05 continues...albeit minus a navigator.
Love to all,
Rusty
Day 3, 4, 5
November 29th - December 1st - Portland, Oregon (still)
As last I communicated, I was leaving Seattle bound for the Caddle Round-up of the 1960 MG-A. After de-icing the plane (kinda freaky), I
finally boarded the turbo-prop for the 33 minute flight to Yakima, Washington. There were no flights for my ultimate destination of
Richland, hence Yakima was as close as I could get, by air. It was a beautiful flight. The tiny plane flew literally a few thousand feet below
Mt. Raneir (sp) and I could look out the window and see the snow capped mount in all of it grandeur.
Upon arrival I was almost giddy with anticipation. The new (old) car was within smelling distance. I called Brian, the guy I was buying the
car from and explained that I was arriving via cab (185 smackeroos BTW, the Seattle snafu was becoming way too costly).
An hour and a half later we met at a Chevron station off I-185, the only two lane interstate I have ever seen. I was somewhat disappointed
that he didn't pick me up in the fuckin' A, but got over it quickly, as we arrived at his home in less than five minutes. Bottom line, the car is
stunning, if nothing else Caddle Drive '05 will be a real looker.
Less than two hours later, I was on the road bound for Portland, that being the first real leg of Caddle Drive '05. The Columbia River
Gorge on I-84 is a gorge-ous sight, but the initial leg of the tour lasted less than four snowy hours. After being lost in Portland for over two
hours (looking for a hotel WITH a bar), I spotted a Papa John's and stopped in to get a Coke. When I returned to the car it wouldn't start.
Yeah, that sucks. Murphy's law. I had the car towed that evening and had the tow people house it over night with instructions that I would
let them know where to take it Tuesday morning. I called a cab (me, imagine that) and had him drop me off at a downtown Holiday Inn. It
had a bar.
Well, what can I say, I have been in Portland for 4 days now, doing nothing but promoting the band and eating fine and drinking better. It
turns out there was nothing wrong with the fuckin' A. Bottom is that if you drive the car for more than two hours, I was on the road for four
and a half, you either have to let the fuel pump cool off or as the mechanic said, whack it a couple of times with a stick to get it unstuck,
before the car will start. A costly error I will never forget, but now the windshield wipers were malfunctioning. A switch, the mechanic said,
was shorting out, and he didn't know if there was new one in northern hemisphere.
As it now stands I have convinced a British mechanic to install a Napa toggle to replace the original switch for the windshield wipers. Stop
gap but I pray it will work. With a little help from the All-Mighty, I'll be on my way south. Finally.
- Rusty
November 29th - December 1st - Portland, Oregon (still)
As last I communicated, I was leaving Seattle bound for the Caddle Round-up of the 1960 MG-A. After de-icing the plane (kinda freaky), I
finally boarded the turbo-prop for the 33 minute flight to Yakima, Washington. There were no flights for my ultimate destination of
Richland, hence Yakima was as close as I could get, by air. It was a beautiful flight. The tiny plane flew literally a few thousand feet below
Mt. Raneir (sp) and I could look out the window and see the snow capped mount in all of it grandeur.
Upon arrival I was almost giddy with anticipation. The new (old) car was within smelling distance. I called Brian, the guy I was buying the
car from and explained that I was arriving via cab (185 smackeroos BTW, the Seattle snafu was becoming way too costly).
An hour and a half later we met at a Chevron station off I-185, the only two lane interstate I have ever seen. I was somewhat disappointed
that he didn't pick me up in the fuckin' A, but got over it quickly, as we arrived at his home in less than five minutes. Bottom line, the car is
stunning, if nothing else Caddle Drive '05 will be a real looker.
Less than two hours later, I was on the road bound for Portland, that being the first real leg of Caddle Drive '05. The Columbia River
Gorge on I-84 is a gorge-ous sight, but the initial leg of the tour lasted less than four snowy hours. After being lost in Portland for over two
hours (looking for a hotel WITH a bar), I spotted a Papa John's and stopped in to get a Coke. When I returned to the car it wouldn't start.
Yeah, that sucks. Murphy's law. I had the car towed that evening and had the tow people house it over night with instructions that I would
let them know where to take it Tuesday morning. I called a cab (me, imagine that) and had him drop me off at a downtown Holiday Inn. It
had a bar.
Well, what can I say, I have been in Portland for 4 days now, doing nothing but promoting the band and eating fine and drinking better. It
turns out there was nothing wrong with the fuckin' A. Bottom is that if you drive the car for more than two hours, I was on the road for four
and a half, you either have to let the fuel pump cool off or as the mechanic said, whack it a couple of times with a stick to get it unstuck,
before the car will start. A costly error I will never forget, but now the windshield wipers were malfunctioning. A switch, the mechanic said,
was shorting out, and he didn't know if there was new one in northern hemisphere.
As it now stands I have convinced a British mechanic to install a Napa toggle to replace the original switch for the windshield wipers. Stop
gap but I pray it will work. With a little help from the All-Mighty, I'll be on my way south. Finally.
- Rusty
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