For B.B. King

Winter 1978–79, B.B. King’s in Iowa City: We borrow a car, and I sensibly suggest checking the oil first. Everyone else insists there isn’t time. Car burns out partway there. On snowy roadside, we solemnly contemplate our mistake until a nice patrolman drives us to town, saying car will be towed to “Barney’s Standard.”
Post-concert, no one we ask has ever heard of Barney’s Standard. We’ve broken someone’s car, then lost it entirely. Eventually discover garage’s new name, escape Twilight Zone, somehow get home.
Only I return with destroyed car’s owner, who hitches it to another car, then I — the least guilty party — must steer it without heat or lights on the highway at night with a large truck bearing down and the driver’s window stuck halfway open, freezing. Exiting highway, we land in snowdrift. Borrowed shovel breaks.
Replacement engine: $350, split several ways.
B.B. King: worth it.

Winter 1978–79, B.B. King’s in Iowa City: We borrow a car, and I sensibly suggest checking the oil first. Everyone else insists there isn’t time. Car burns out partway there. On snowy roadside, we solemnly contemplate our mistake until a nice patrolman drives us to town, saying car will be towed to “Barney’s Standard.”  

Post-concert, no one we ask has ever heard of Barney’s Standard. We’ve broken someone’s car, then lost it entirely. Eventually discover garage’s new name, escape Twilight Zone, somehow get home.   

Only I return with destroyed car’s owner, who hitches it to another car, then I — the least guilty party — must steer it without heat or lights on the highway at night with a large truck bearing down and the driver’s window stuck halfway open, freezing. Exiting highway, we land in snowdrift. Borrowed shovel breaks.  

Replacement engine: $350, split several ways.  

B.B. King: worth it.

Rosa Michnya ’79
Philadelphia
Issue: 
Prompt: 
Winters in Iowa Can Be Brutal