Today's little journey into Lorne Past takes us back to sunny Florida.

Like most expatriates of the state of New Jersey, Lorne got a hankerin' to visit his Momma and drinkin' buddies up north. This nostalgic sense is compelling, but Lorne was convinced that his VW Microbus was not up to the task of heading north on Route 1 for 800 miles. He would have to fly up there. So he called the airlines and badgered himself a window seat on a flight to Newark leaving several weeks hence. He was obligated, however, to drive out to the local airport to pick up his tickets.

As we shall see, the airline should have just bitten the bullet and mailed him the damn tickets.

Lorne set out in the heat of mid-afternoon in his VW Microbus. The model year of this vehicle is unimportant, as all microbuses are the same -- especially the ones that Lorne has owned.

It was a typical Lorne Battle Cruiser with cheesy, faded red curtains in all the windows and numerous rusty dents from a long, brutish life. It ran pretty well, but the fuel line was composed of aquarium tubing and the exhaust was fashioned from Campbell's soup cans.

Lorne puttered down the road, proud of his fine-tuning of the steering system and his new brakes. He hoped to get the bus fixed, sanded, primered, painted and ready for a Happy Holiday tour of America, and, time permitting, Earth.

Now, Lorne may be a weird guy, and he may get into a lot of vehicular "accidents", but I can attest to his mastery of automobiles. He's a machinist by trade, and a pretty damn good mechanic. But his ability to wrench performance from a vehicle against its will and then glissade to a menacing, graceful stop is unparalleled. He mentioned many times a desire to be a stunt driver in Hollywood, but I think he realized that personality conflicts were certain should he deign to work for "artists".

So anyway, Lorne trooped on out to the airport, happily whipping the VW through sharp turns and chirping the tires for the entertainment of his community.

As he approached the airport, he found himself being channelled into a toll area. Quick as a bat, Lorne sized up the width of the unmanned booths and decided he could easily slip past the booths while engaging in a high-speed, off-center slide on his brakes.

As he neared the booth, he cut the wheel just a bit, but sharp. He then applied the brakes hard, but with a light foot in order to correct the slide and adjust for the width the oncoming toll area.

Then, all he heard (he says) was a mild "WHUMP" sound and the engine cut out immediately.

The bus started right back up, and Lorne had yet to look up before putting it in gear to scram out of there. As he applied the gas, the car did not move. At all.

At first, Lorne feared he had blown his clutch. But as his beady eyes looked forward to the windshield, he saw nothing but a white wooden wall.

He put the car quickly into reverse, but it would not go. Since the rear window was curtained off, Lorne hopped out of the bus to see What The Fuck Was Going On.

As he stepped outside, he received a bit of a jolt as he discovered the complexity of his problems.
Lorne had effectively sandwiched his Microbus between two cement poles on each side of the tollbooths. It was sandwiched bumper-to-bumper, squeezed in so tight there seemed no hope he'd be able to retrieve it.

What struck me as amusing about this did not strike the same chord in Lorne. He was pissed off as hell that his great VW was now damaged. He looked at it in terms eventually having to pay to straighten the chassis, then pull out or evenreplace two damn VW bumpers.

He inspected the situation carefully. The bumpers were squeezed in tight, but there was still leeway before they bent right into the body of the bus. He jumped feverishly into the bus and attempted to perform an eighty-point turn by forcing the bus forward, then back, in succession, while wrenching on the steering wheel with all his might.

When other motorists began entering the toll area, carefully avoiding the Lunatic and his Stuck Bus, Lorne turned off the bus and gave up all hope.

He was busted.

The desire to abandon the bus, pick up his airline tickets and go home gnawed at his guts, but he realized that the VW was registered in his name. Escape was futile.

Contrary to what this situation might infer, Lorne is not a stupid man. He knows that the cops are far more reasonable when they don't have to hunt you down to find you. Cops don't necassarily want to bust everybody; they just don't want anybody making their job more difficult than it already is.

Airport security was first on the scene. They laughed mercilessly at Lorne, as did many passing motorists. Lorne could not stand this humiliation, and burst a blood vessel at the airport security guys.

"Funny, huh? Yeah, that's not really funny. Y'know what's really funny? The fact that you two ASSHOLES don't have a CHANCE of gettin' that thing outta there. You're gonna be here ALL NIGHT. With me!!! 'Cause you dumb fucks don't got the brains between you to remove this bus, and I ain't volunteerin' any assistance to youse! So go ahead and laugh, you fuckin' rent-a-assholes!!! HA-HA-FUCKIN"-HA!"

Lorne was right. It was the rent-a-cops' job to free up that VW and avoid unnecessary embarrassment from the many members of the flying public who gawked while rolling by. The airport was supposed to be a place where crashes "don't happen". It was up to security to keep the place secure. The two men heaved and ho'd, trying to force one side of the van loose. It was futile. The cops discussed getting a security vehicle and bashing the van free of the cement posts.

Lorne quickly intervened: "Hey, man! I didn't fuck up your stupid toll booths, did I? My bumpers might be bent, but if you guys bash up my bus, I swear to God I'll sue you guys for every penny you got! You'll end up buying me a new fuckin' Westfalia, you got dat???"

The security officers were flustered. They had a stuck microbus and an atagonistic subject to deal with. They called the cops.

"Yeah, go ahead and CALL THE COPS," Lorne said. "Let's get some REAL MEN on this job! You guys are useless!"

As the security guys waited with their arms folded in front of their chests, Lorne appealed to the crowd of drivers who gawked at the bizarre sight. "Pretty good, huh? You people like that? Pretty funny, huh? Yeah, these cops over here got my van stuck. And now they can't get it out! See? They just stand there, because they're STUPID! Just LOOK at 'em! Ha!"

Soon enough the police arrived. After the usual round of laughter, they approached Lorne, ticket books in hand. Now, the only thing that makes Lorne nervous is the sight of an open ticket book. Cops can be amenable, but the ticket book means Business.

Lorne began a nervous and blantantly false representation of what caused his bus to get stuck between the toll booths. Suffice it to say Lorne's excuse involved various phantom oil slicks and supposed poor civil engineering on the entrance road.

The cops bought none of it, but decided the van was still drivable, if only it could be freed from its moorings. Enter the tow truck. Lorne was barred from supervising the removal scheme, much to his chagrin. The cops hooked up the rear bumper, as it appeared the most free. A chain and strap went to the tow truck winch, which, once engaged, proceeded to sink the bus even *deeper* into its cement vise.

They quickly stopped. As Lorne watched in horror, the tow truck driver decided to hitch up the bumper and jerk the van out under the powerful torque of the tow truck's mighty wheels. Lorne quietly intervened, "No. Don't fuckin' do that. No. No way. You're gonna wreck it. Don't fuckin' do it. Please!"

The cops showed Lorne the ticket book again, and Lorne shut his yap, shielding his eyes from the carnage. The tow truck gave a yank, and the bus *drilled deeper* into the cement posts. The bumper began to bend up against the force.
"Hey! Stop it! Hey! That guy's gonna rip my fuckin' bumper off! Hey! Stop!"

Lorne's cries were heard. The tow truck driver stopped.
The cops hung their heads. They didn't like this at all. What was once amusing was now annoying (as are many things inre Lorne). As visions of ticket books danced in his head, Lorne intervened in his own behalf:

"I tell you guys what: you get another tow truck and put it on the far side of the booth. Tie up each tow truck to opposite bumpers and have 'em tug in opposite directions. That fucker'll pop right out, I swear!"

Lorne looked to the tow truck driver. "Go ahead! Call another tow truck! You guys DO have more than one truck, dontcha?"
The cops nodded and the tow truck guy called for back up.

Many moons later, the second tow truck arrived. The cops coordinated Lorne's plan while Lorne watched eagerly from the sidelines. The tow trucks hooked up to opposite bumpers, then tugged in opposite directions. With a gut-wrenching SCREEEEEEEEEEENNCH! the van popped free.

Lorne was deliriously happy. He jumped into the bus, and started it up without difficulty. The cops waved him to the side of the road, where they all had a little pow-wow with Lorne. The tow truck drivers handed Lorne a juicy bill. The airport security guys gave him a final nasty stare and tromped back to the terminal. The cops gave Lorne the "yer lucky nobody got hurt" talk as they allowed him to drive away.

Lorne started to pull back into line to go through the booths and pick up his airline tickets, but the cops would have none of it. They stopped him and told him that if he had a home, he best get back to it ASAP if he knew what was good for him.

So Lorne went home, drank a beer, and had some laughs about the whole thing. Once again, what was tragedy became comedy due to Lorne's preternatural ability to defy the Embrace of Disaster. He had willfully dared the Fates and come away unscathed.

If only I, your humble narrator, had such abilities as this man. Instead, I'm one of those who rarely defies Darwinian Law. I find the retribution to be too swift and severe for a simple man like me. I dare not make a life of brazen insanity.

Perhaps I lived vicariously through Lorne; I dunno. But I do know that my experiences with him have shaped me in a positive way. Street smarts and bravado can be valuable assets in a world where natural selection continues to dominate human culture.