Several years ago, I was a court reporter, reporting depositions and public hearings around the Pacific Northwest. Since I didn’t work for the State, these proceedings didn’t take place in courthouses or major cities. We’d go to whatever town the witnesses lived in and set up our laptops wherever we were directed to be. We might end up in downtown Seattle at a plush highrise law office, or just as likely be set up in a basement apartment in Dufur. Freelance court reporters learn to travel light and to expect the unexpected.
One winter day, I got an assignment for a deposition in Rhododendron, Oregon, a small town in a mountain pass somewhere on Mt. Hood. (I’m not being vague. I just never found it.) This was 2004, after paper maps, but before GPS, so I MapQuested the directions. Simple enough, according to Mr. Quest. Go up Lolo Pass Road for several miles, and you can’t miss it!
At the base of the road, a heavy chain was strung across the entrance (in my defense, there was no actual sign saying CLOSED). Since I’m basically a pleaser and MapQuest said to take THIS road, I sighed, but hopped out and pranced across the snow skiff in my stilettos to unhook the road block, and proceeded on. After several sloooow miles up (and up and up), the road seemed to be getting narrower and snowier. As I peered out of my windows in the eerie quiet, on my left, the snow-covered mountain was going STRAIGHT UP, and on my right was a deep forested ravine going STRAIGHT DOWN. In answer to Kenny’s Big Question later that day (“AT ANY POINT did your brain say “Gee, this probably isn’t a GOOD IDEA??”), yes, it did occur to me to try to turn around, but by this time, that was no longer an option. The road was barely the width of my car. And since I can’t back straight out of our driveway without taking out half the begonias and an entire row of underground sprinklers, backing up on this curvy, steep road was dumb even by my standards. So I kept driving. Up. And up. And up. Some miles later, my car plowed headlong into a snowbank and stopped. Well, crap.
Having a fairly good idea of how Kenny was going to react to this latest adventure, I briefly considered walking the rest of the way, but since I was wearing a skirt with pantyhose and 3″ heels and I was essentially buried under 6 feet of snow with no idea how far away Rhododendron actually was, I conceded defeat and called Kenny, who showed up 2 hours later with his dad and a tow truck, both men yelling and waving their arms about dumb blondes and finding my body in the spring and WHAT WAS I THINKING???, while Dad hitched my car to his truck and, with Kenny steering my car while they both drove BACKWARDS, they slowly towed my little car back down the hill.
It’s been 9 years now, and every time I get another one of what Kenny calls my “Stupid Ideas,” he looks at me and says, “Lo. Lo. Pass.”
“C’MON,” I wailed, after a recent Great Plan was squashed like a cockroach by yet another reference to Lolo Pass, “Golfers get one of those Mulfords, or Melanies, or whatever they’re called.” “Mulligans,” he replied. “They’re called Mulligans.”
Yeah, I want one of those. A Life Mulligan. A big, cosmic “we’ll just pretend this never happened” do-over. Show of hands to anyone else who could use one. Someone? Anyone?
Oh I can totally use one for lo the many supid, yet entertaining things I have done in my lifetime, lol!! :)
No, you’ll never live that one down. No way. It’s funny to the rest of us, though.
A LIfe Mulligan! What a novel idea. I want one!! PS: I’m with Kenny on the LoLoPass trip. Yeeks!!!
They really should ease off of you and consider the beautiful, untouched country they got to see because of your so-called mis-adventure!
You tell Kenny to BACK OFF! You deserve a mulligan! I’m brunette and I would have totally done the SAME thing. . .right down to the part about not being able to back down the mountain. I was shaking my head laughing because I too can only use reverse well enough to get the car into a parking spot. . .anything more than a foot or two and I’m screwed. Thanks for the smiles. . .as ALWAYS!
Life mulligans would be perfect. Can we just invent those and start using them? People do it all the time with the ridiculous number of awards out there (think Oscar season). But no, you’ll never live that one down. Like me, however, you’ll probably snap one day and threaten his life if he mentions it one. more. time. Heh
If you find out where to get a Mulligan on life, let me know. I am desperate.
Hey Vikki, You must remember from your time in Hawaii, that lolo is the Hawaiian word for crazy! As in “pakalolo”/crazy weed! That crazy road, Lolo Pass, should never have been there in the first place!
I love Lolo Pass was just up the road from when I grew up. But just be lucky it wasn’t my Dad who found you. He to would never have let U live it down an then U would have become one of his great storys. Oh wait U already did that. But it is a lovely drive over there in the summer. And it has good history. One of my Dads Lolo pass story of when he was young. His Mom an Dad an brother an him where coming home that way. Shorter way to Dee. Any way there was a deer on the upper bank an it jumped off. All four feet came though the roof of the car. Dad being himself grabed its leg yelling I got it. Everyone else said let it. I know he must have at some point. But can’t you just seen them with a live deer sticking out of the roof all the way to Dee. Oh so I knew it was true my Uncle jack told it too
Not to give Kenny a big head, but you might consider that Kenny, himself, is your Life Mulligan…and you his!
What we do with those “mulligans” puts a smile on our face in those cold nights when we contemplate where would we be without them!
A pleaser in stilettos. You’re my new role model! :-) I love that story and not that it should comfort anyone, but I’d do the exact same thing. And yes to the do-over. Every single day!
Everybody could use a Mulligan in their life. Probably several dozen. I know I could. You are funny and witty Vikki.
Bwahahaha! OMG. That is fantastic.
I cannot back up to save my life, so I would have had to do the same thing. I’m actually impressed they managed to tow you out of there unscathed!!
You totally deserve a mulligan! –The Dose Girls
I’m sad to say that you’ll never live that one down, dear… But I only say that because I would have done the same thing, and I know that I wouldn’t ever live it down either! Haha
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Truism: Whenever you have a “What was I thinking?” incident there will always be someone witnessing it. You will never be rid of that someone because they will be a close family member. Just when you’ve forgotten the incident, that someone will remind you in front of many other someones because it’s just too funny. If I had a mulligan for each of my misadventures, I’d never get around the course.
It sounds to me like you don’t need a Mulligan for life…you just need it for that one thing. I think the best way to handle it is to tell your husband that story has an expiration date on it, and it’s passed. Advise that any further reference to it will result in a swift kick to the balls. Then apologize, tell him you don’t make the rules, and turn around and walk away.
I would also recommend keeping an eye out for something stupid he does, and then hammering it into the ground repeatedly, much like he did with this.
These are just a few of my secrets to a happy marriage. :-)