RAT Network Failure

[NOMADMONAD@aol.com]

At certain designated Petro Stopping Centers we plug into small yellow metal 
"pods" rising out of the asphalt.  Surrounded by 18-wheelers, the RatMobile 
is definitely an odd one, but the TRUCKS ONLY section of parking seems to 
have adopted the ugly duckling as one of its own.

The hood latch on the vehicle has quit working.  By now I have cut down 
considerably the amount of time it takes for me to crawl under with 
screwdriver to open it, but I also need to hook up the jumper cables from the 
good battery to bad battery in order to start the generator.  After the 
vehicle has juice, I need to check to see if the pod where we're parked gives 
out a dial tone.  Next the laptop is fired up and attached to the phone line 
and the electric. At two of last three Stopping Centers we have reached this 
point of communication only to be informed that there is a "network failure."
 
Last night the Irish Jew suggested we could backtrack out of Winslow to 
Holbrook, but my belief is that the RatMobile is rebelling against its 
function as a communicator.  We need give it room and not put a vise grip on 
its personality.   It seems to be attempting to rediscover its roots as a 
transporter.  Daily more and more hitchhikers are filling its belly. 

After a three-beer powwow in the RatMobile last night, the two Hopi were 
giving the Irish Jew and me our Indian names.  Eagle Boy and Bear Claw.  Then 
they revealed to us the reason why there is so much bad everywhere today.  
Its because we are all now living in the Fourth World, which will end in a 
few years. 

Earlier in the afternoon we drove by five teenagers sitting on a picnic table 
by the side of the road in the little town of Rama, New Mexico.  The guitar 
they had caught our eye and the RatMobile did a turnaround.

"Can you play that guitar?"

"A little bit."

"Could you share song with us for the road?"

While his sister and her boyfriend cuddled and kissed on the picnic table, he 
and his partner rocked out a tune.  The Irish Jew held the recorder up to 
catch it.  The RatMobile will send it out to rat-list later, network willing. 
 

Last night at around midnight we were going sixty mph down a back road 
following directions to an Apache swimming hole when suddenly the headlights 
went out.   We were thrown into pitch-blackness.  For about ten seconds the 
RatMobile not only owned its own destiny but ours also.  I'm thinking that 
"network failures" and "acts of God" are becoming near synonyms as we enter 
the new millenium.  One of the four fan belts is screaming at us.  I guess at 
which one, then estimate its size at 56 inches.  I'll try replacing it at the 
next Stopping Center.  I feel lucky today.

The Homeless One appears to spend much of his time just outside the 
reservations in this area.  We see him more and more often now.  It felt good 
to be able to hug the Hopi men last night when we said goodbye.  We were no 
longer strangers, but fellow travelers in a world near end.