Requiem for an Overheated Hitchhiker….
Before I resume with Requiem for an Overheated Hitchhiker, my oft mentioned pal Del Fishman lent me a book to big too travel with as I started this trip. There was a note he left, which I found in my backpack today. It said: What's the difference between a lie and imagination? Lies hurt people and imagination makes life more fun. Finally, a succinct rationale to my children Shannon, Moira, Joe and Dan on why my stories really weren't lies! Rationalization…one of life's more powerful opiates. Oh…that quote was from freaky scary author Dean Koontz.
Why yes, I did make it to Knoxville, thank you very much and our host-est with most-est was in inimitable Helen Hewitt. Another unselfish sales person extraordinaire, she set up a book signing at cool bookstore Carpe Librium, after they had already turned me down. About fifteen of her friends showed up, I did a reading, sold books and best of all her Mom, Mrs. Hewitt came with Helen and at 88 years olds, she recalled quite clearly the days of yore when I would come to visit via thumb. It was all delightful and after a dinner with Helen, Mrs. Hewitt, Helen's good friend who's name escapes me, but she was a firecracker from Florida, Kathy, Moira and me, we toured the Hewitt's old neighborhood, Sequoya Hills (which is featured prominently in the novel), we headed to Helen's gracious home for a good nights sleep.
While I maintain the true story that Getting There is fiction, who can't help but steal a name here and there (Helen Brady of Knoxville, Syd Smolinski of Indian River) and a bit of your favorite friends ambiance? I couldn't and it was great fun writing it.
We were up again bright and early, visited the University of Tennessee, led by Helen and after a brief tour and a picture, Helen left us and we found the second radio interview of the tour and my third overall. Each of the stations were local Public Radio stations and while I've been in a radio studio before, each of the interviews were fun and mostly about the hitchhiking tour and not the book, which was fine, I just not sure how many books they helped sell.
It was mid morning by the time I was back on I-75 and it wasn't getting any cooler the further south I headed. The same luck I had been having so far held. I waited over an hour, picked up a few very short rides. I also noticed something funny, not really funny, but fishy. Now thousands upon thousands of cars passed me by on this trip. Likely tens of thousands, but like 40 years ago, everyone once in a while I would see a car that seemed familiar, like I had seen it or the driver before. I had this strange feeling that the second ride was the same guy who had slowed down yesterday, scoped me out and then sped away. This guy in the black PT Cruiser, that I noticed was a rental, looked or seemed like somebody I knew. I picked up a strange vibe, not a bad feeling, and the guy looked normal, but he didn't smile much.
I didn't think much about it and the short ride was uneventful. He was stopping a few exits up to have a late breakfast at the Waffle House, and I decided not to hang out and eat with him, especially after he started talking about his knife collection. As it turned out, he wasn't harmless, which I shockingly found out two days later.
But that's the day after tomorrow's story. More coming on the next long ride from Triggerman and the surprising near sideswipe with infamy!
