POETIC JUSTICE
I’ve heard it called “poetic justice”, even turned the phrase myself on occasion, but it’s hard to find the poetic when it feels like the unwritten laws of nature are getting even with you for past trespasses.
Some folks refer to it as “karma”. Others throw out the old “what comes around goes around” adage, like it was scientific fact. Billy Shakespeare called it “a pound of flesh”, which is exactly what it felt like I was givin’ the searing concrete gas station parking lot… on bended knees.Back in ’79’ or ’80’, my buddy Kelly’s dad had a Plymouth Duster with a “340 V-8”; it was even painted onto the back of both rear fenders. The car was fast, really fast, but it didn’t have wings.
The once sleepy little town of Lake Havasu City, born by the damming up of the Colorado River, is nestled into the foothills where the steep run off created deep washes and ravines. So many that it would be impossible to build bridges over all of them.They just smoothed the dirt a bit, slapped some asphalt down and called it a road. They did, however, pop for some bright yellow triangle shaped signs and stuck them along side the road on each side of the dip to warn travelers of the “dip ahead”.
On occasion, Kelly would earn the right to “take the ol’ man’s car out”, and he took it out alright… and up.
I rode with Kelly and a carload of other teenagers that know how to make a small town less boring and everything innocent life threatening.
Kelly called it “dip jumpin'”, and we flew through the air in his dad’s Duster just like Bo and Luke did in the General Lee on Dukes of Hazard.
That feeling of anxiety and expectation in your guts and bowels right before takeoff is unforgettable. So are the relief and gratification of not dying after the Duster finally quit bouncing off the earth.
No one was the wiser of our reckless “dip jumpin'”, until Kelly’s dad, out of town on business, put two and two together, but couldn’t put the pieces of his front end together that were scattered like Humpty Dumpty.
Now, “dip jumpin'” Kelly’s dad’s car wasn’t my idea, but in hindsight, it could be that the universe holds me guilty as an accessory.
Our youngest daughter used to hit curbs in my car like Chicken Little does the panic button. I’ve had the fiberglass front spoiler fixed time and again.
I never gave much thought to the air dam behind it that it was attached to. I hadn’t given much thought to Kelly’s dad’s Duster in decades either. Not until after I’d limped my car into Yuma, halfway between Phoenix and San Diego.
I’m fairly certain God didn’t punish us for trying to fly like Evil Knievel and angels. It could be that it’s just a fallen world and folks lack wisdom, especially teenagers.
I do believe that God takes bad things and makes them beautiful. He calls it redemption.
Since wisdom has great value… maybe so does poetic justice.
Lisa notes
Sunday, August 7, 2016 @ 5:36 pm
I was never into dip jumpin’ but then again I was a girl. 🙂 When we all get to heaven, I think we’ll be surprised to see all the times we could have been killed but weren’t, and will praise God for the great mercies he showed us…at every age. Thanks for sharing this memory and insight, Floyd.
Diane Ronzino
Monday, August 8, 2016 @ 2:26 am
Morning, Floyd. I agree with Lisa and, as always, your words are so…vivid…that they paint a movie scene in my head which created that anxiety in my gut! Thanks, Floyd! LOL!
Pam
Monday, August 8, 2016 @ 5:29 am
Oh my, I loved “dip jumping” as a kid! I could almost feel that sinking in my stomach as you described it, Floyd. Remember the chase scene from “Bullitt”? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=31JgMAHVeg0
Sharon
Monday, August 8, 2016 @ 12:25 pm
OK, love it. In my day, I did some fun (scary, stupid) things in my car. I never had a sports car, but I drove my Mercury Capri like it was one, once taking it up to 109 mph on a stretch of road outside of Joshua Tree! The worst thing I ever did in a car was plow my dad’s Firebird into a retaining wall on the drive up to our garage…in the pouring rain. I can still remember not sleeping at all, as I awaited ‘fessing up the next morning. My dad’s joy at seeing me at the breakfast table (since I was so NOT a morning person) made me feel even more guilty. He took the news in calmness. I sorta wished he’d yelled at me, as that is what I felt I deserved.
Years later, my sons had some *mishaps* that reminded me of what the “other side” feels like – the parent side. Sometimes our kids have a way of teaching us new (and retroactive?) lessons.
By the way, I’ve limped into a lonely gas station in Yuma around 3:00 AM on a return trip from a loooong family road trip. I feel your pain…
GOD BLESS!
Bill (cycleguy)
Monday, August 8, 2016 @ 1:12 pm
I never had my own car until I was a Junior in college. Would have been sort of heard to do any “dipping” in my dad’s Falcon station wagon. ROFL. I sure am glad I never had to be tempted by a 340 Duster or Heavy Chevy.
Cheryl
Monday, August 8, 2016 @ 3:24 pm
Oh, my, this reminded me of a friend I had in Oklahoma who used to jump over bridges in her car….with me in it. It is a wonder we lived to tell about it! Our parents would have had nervous breakdowns if they knew what we were into, wouldn’t they? God had His eye upon us, even in the moments of total foolish recklessness. He is so faithful! Thanks for sharing another piece of your past, brother. God bless you.
Barb Raveling
Monday, August 8, 2016 @ 4:00 pm
Wow, I missed out on dip jumping, thankfully! I think my brothers did those sorts of things though. 🙂 Always good to hear of your childhood mishaps, Floyd.
Betty Draper
Monday, August 8, 2016 @ 7:58 pm
I just walked into the house a few minutes ago, coming through the garage where our son is coaching two people cross fit. This grandma was fit to be tied, not because of the exercise going on but my grandchildren were using an office chair with rollers to fly down the driveway… and both parents knew they were doing it. It is better not to see or hear of your children and grandchildren escapades till they are over. Can’t believed I held my tongue but my thoughts are flying in this direction…their day will come…yes, their day will come. As a footnote, both our adult children loves for us to tell about the crazy things we did that our parents did not know, or maybe they did because they did them too , or something like them. Very poetic post brother.
Hazel Moon
Monday, August 8, 2016 @ 10:27 pm
I do hope you got your vehicle running again without too much trouble on that hot parking lot concrete.
Here where we live, there is a very steep hill down and up (going both ways,) not too far away, and when our grandchildren were little, we would take them down and up it real fast. Not the same as the dip you fellows experienced, but Robert, me and the kids loved it. The most dangerous thing I allowed without a word, was me age 16, in the middle seat of a pick up truck with a crazy driver friend of my then boy friend. We were on our way to San Pablo, from Oakland, on a two lane road when he decided to play chicken. We all lived because he got back in the right lane just in time. I should have spoken up at his stupidity. I never told my folks. Thank you Floyd for another post that brings up memories in us and so glad only the vehicles involved in the dipping suffered minor injury. Thank you for sharing with us here at Tell Me a True Story.
saleslady371
Tuesday, August 9, 2016 @ 9:28 am
I did some dip jumping with my dad’s car with him sitting next to me. Talk about stupid (I didn’t see the dip.) Doesn’t free me from guilt! Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m thinking you had to take the vehicle in while in Yuma? At least it’s a nice size city for a place to land. Yes, thanking God with you that He makes all things beautiful again. Have a nice day, Floyd.
Dolly@Soulstops
Wednesday, August 10, 2016 @ 11:45 am
Floyd,
Your description of dip-jumpin reminded me of how my stomach would feel when I was little and I pumped my legs in the swing until I was so high that my stomach would drop as the swing came back down. Sorry to hear about your car breaking down. No fun. Thanks for sharing your insights 🙂
June
Thursday, August 11, 2016 @ 9:57 am
We did some crazy stuff 4-wheeling mountains in Vermont when I was a kid. And, yes, our mistakes often have consequences that we experience years later. But somehow I don’t think that’s what landed you in that gas station in Yuma. No, that was Murphy all the way. Best wishes on getting your car fixed, brother!