Well gentle readers, if you're out there, it appears that your Brooklynite heroes have fallen from grace somewhere between Cleveland and Chicago. No more iconic American moments of grilled burgers and popping fireworks. Today, our car -- the one we just bought 30 days ago -- suffered a serious engine-related blow. In the middle of nowhere in Indiana. I know it's the middle of nowhere because all the mechanics I called said "You're where?? You gonna have a real hard time finding a place to stay while you find someone to fix your car. Specially with the holiday an' all." Yes. Thank you.
One of the guys I called couldn't help with the car, but did offer to tow the car to a place that could, about 40 miles away. This guy seriously saved the day. Without him, we would be camping out in the rain at McDonalds right now.
Whelp, I won't bore with details, but remember how I was saying I felt like all I owned in the world was a car full of stuff and a dog? Looks like we're down to the dog. And she's whining and barking a lot lately and things aren't looking good for her.
Kidding. I mean, look at that truckin' doggie's face.
Anyway. We have a rental car. We're at a hotel room in Chicago with a six pack from 7-Eleven and a box of deep dish pizza that we waited an hour to get. We don't know when the car will be fixed. Or if it will be fixed.
It's been a rough one.