Now the van is painted white. I'll try to make this one shorter. We had to deliver the "BIG" piano to NYC. I had made the trip once in my 62 econoline (also white) but it had engine problems on the return trip. We grabbed the Now-white-orange-van and returned to NYC to do the filming. Met Ron Howard, Penny Marshall, Tom Hanks and Robert Loggia. On the way back, the van suddenly started sounding crunchy -Jimmy had mentioned that he thought one rear bearing might be going bad. We pulled over and investigated and couldn't find anything sufficiently wrong to stop.
Why was Jimmy suddenly interested in looking at the mud that had been squished up by a bulldozers at the adjacent construction site? Keeping in mind that he was doing ceramics at Kutztown, and that he was living in the van, and that we had just made an emergency trip to NYC to work on the movie, one can imagine the "eclecticism" of the van when Jimmy started loading hunks of clay -maybe a dozen of them- the size of basketballs into the van. The clay was thickly striped, gray and coffee and brick-red; jim claimed it would be great for ceramics,.. maybe.
We continued down the highway with some caution. We were passed by a police car driving with his lights on, who proceeded to pull over a white van 200 yards in front of us. This didn't seem odd until two minutes later when another police car passed us and pulled over another white van. The gears began to click in my head, "you don't suppose..." another cop, another white van. There sure are a lot of white vans in the world! I was interrupted in my chain of thinking because there was suddenly a loud "thud" and the van apparently popped into neutral -not good on I-95 (I think, some highway north of Philly by 15 miles). I looked out the rear-view mirror and saw the rear wheel sticking out, literally, 2 feet from the side of the van; the axle shaft had popped out of the differential and was "telescoping" out of the axle housing. It was like a cartoon.
I was afraid to hit the brakes (not that they would have worked) and since the van was no longer powering itself, we had limited options. As in all panic situations, my mind was racing thinking of a plan (how would we stop, how would we "park" the van, would it roll away, fall on the ground..?) And like all panic situations, it suddenly got stranger as the police car on the back bumper hit the horn and the sirens and the lights all at once.
Now my mind was really racing; what if the van rolls backward into the cop car when we stop? How long had he been tail-gating us? What if Jim jumps out to block the wheels and they shoot him? Fortunately, the van just stopped. The cop got out, walked around the wheel magically not noticing it and asked us for our licenses and registration. Jim's was in the back somewhere, but I had mine (or did I have the fake one?.. )
The cop asked me why I took so long to pull over. I said I didn't realize he was pulling us over until he turned on the siren, but we were already pulling over because we were having car problems. "Oh really?" he smirked, clearly not believing me, "What car problems?" I pointed out the wheel he had just failed to notice, sticking out so far it was an exaggeration of a car problem,.. clearly both of us AND the van were mocking him! The interrogation went downhill in comical fashion from there, as the police were clearly looking for something but they wouldn't tell us, but they had stumbled upon a strange story, already in progress, which had all the hallmarks of being suspicious but just didn't line up with whatever script they were following.
They made us get out. While Jim was looking for his license they could see into the back of the van. The officers were trying to make sense of what they saw in the van. And why was Jim wearing pajamas? They wanted information but they yelled at us everytime we talked, "shut up you... clown!" one of them yelled at Jim. They made us sit on the front bumper of the van (not easy) while they examined the licenses. "Hey, how come you guys have the same last name?" A pause while all of us thought of all the possible reasons. "Are you guys funny or something?" Another pause while Jim and I tried to think of the reason that he had thought of. "Umm, no, we're brothers," I offered, "see the resemblance?" He said something like "he'd rather NOT!" or an equally cryptic and angry utterance. The other cop was starting to realize that we weren't whatever they were looking for and seemed less agitated, so we said something like, "look, why don't you just tell us what you're looking for and we'll try to help if we can." He said, "Well, someone reported that a white van had stopped on the highway side of a construction site and stolen a bunch of stuff, but then they drove off before anyone could catch them. I guess it wasn't you guys, you're just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Oh, yes that was us," I said, trying not to seem simply contrary, "we stopped to check a noise in the van, and then Jim saw this clay that he thought would be good for pottery." The look of disappointed resignation set in on the cops faces, "these mud-balls?" exasperated that there seemed to be no crime committed. "We could put them back," jim offerred, "well, after we fix the van,.. unless you want to, um.. take them..." the cops were already getting in their car. "Could you call a tow-truck?" I asked jogging back to their car. "Yeah, right, sure," he mumbled with the car already in reverse.
It was a long wait for the tow-truck. Actually, I can't remember the tow truck at all. Memories are like that.
Why was Jimmy suddenly interested in looking at the mud that had been squished up by a bulldozers at the adjacent construction site? Keeping in mind that he was doing ceramics at Kutztown, and that he was living in the van, and that we had just made an emergency trip to NYC to work on the movie, one can imagine the "eclecticism" of the van when Jimmy started loading hunks of clay -maybe a dozen of them- the size of basketballs into the van. The clay was thickly striped, gray and coffee and brick-red; jim claimed it would be great for ceramics,.. maybe.
We continued down the highway with some caution. We were passed by a police car driving with his lights on, who proceeded to pull over a white van 200 yards in front of us. This didn't seem odd until two minutes later when another police car passed us and pulled over another white van. The gears began to click in my head, "you don't suppose..." another cop, another white van. There sure are a lot of white vans in the world! I was interrupted in my chain of thinking because there was suddenly a loud "thud" and the van apparently popped into neutral -not good on I-95 (I think, some highway north of Philly by 15 miles). I looked out the rear-view mirror and saw the rear wheel sticking out, literally, 2 feet from the side of the van; the axle shaft had popped out of the differential and was "telescoping" out of the axle housing. It was like a cartoon.
I was afraid to hit the brakes (not that they would have worked) and since the van was no longer powering itself, we had limited options. As in all panic situations, my mind was racing thinking of a plan (how would we stop, how would we "park" the van, would it roll away, fall on the ground..?) And like all panic situations, it suddenly got stranger as the police car on the back bumper hit the horn and the sirens and the lights all at once.
Now my mind was really racing; what if the van rolls backward into the cop car when we stop? How long had he been tail-gating us? What if Jim jumps out to block the wheels and they shoot him? Fortunately, the van just stopped. The cop got out, walked around the wheel magically not noticing it and asked us for our licenses and registration. Jim's was in the back somewhere, but I had mine (or did I have the fake one?.. )
The cop asked me why I took so long to pull over. I said I didn't realize he was pulling us over until he turned on the siren, but we were already pulling over because we were having car problems. "Oh really?" he smirked, clearly not believing me, "What car problems?" I pointed out the wheel he had just failed to notice, sticking out so far it was an exaggeration of a car problem,.. clearly both of us AND the van were mocking him! The interrogation went downhill in comical fashion from there, as the police were clearly looking for something but they wouldn't tell us, but they had stumbled upon a strange story, already in progress, which had all the hallmarks of being suspicious but just didn't line up with whatever script they were following.
They made us get out. While Jim was looking for his license they could see into the back of the van. The officers were trying to make sense of what they saw in the van. And why was Jim wearing pajamas? They wanted information but they yelled at us everytime we talked, "shut up you... clown!" one of them yelled at Jim. They made us sit on the front bumper of the van (not easy) while they examined the licenses. "Hey, how come you guys have the same last name?" A pause while all of us thought of all the possible reasons. "Are you guys funny or something?" Another pause while Jim and I tried to think of the reason that he had thought of. "Umm, no, we're brothers," I offered, "see the resemblance?" He said something like "he'd rather NOT!" or an equally cryptic and angry utterance. The other cop was starting to realize that we weren't whatever they were looking for and seemed less agitated, so we said something like, "look, why don't you just tell us what you're looking for and we'll try to help if we can." He said, "Well, someone reported that a white van had stopped on the highway side of a construction site and stolen a bunch of stuff, but then they drove off before anyone could catch them. I guess it wasn't you guys, you're just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Oh, yes that was us," I said, trying not to seem simply contrary, "we stopped to check a noise in the van, and then Jim saw this clay that he thought would be good for pottery." The look of disappointed resignation set in on the cops faces, "these mud-balls?" exasperated that there seemed to be no crime committed. "We could put them back," jim offerred, "well, after we fix the van,.. unless you want to, um.. take them..." the cops were already getting in their car. "Could you call a tow-truck?" I asked jogging back to their car. "Yeah, right, sure," he mumbled with the car already in reverse.
It was a long wait for the tow-truck. Actually, I can't remember the tow truck at all. Memories are like that.
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