I haven’t personally MET a “large, long-legged and long-necked bird.”

But I’ve stood in its namesake.

Many moons ago, the aux wire in the Durango – the one that lets me listen to my phone through the car’s speakers – developed a short. Although I’ve gotten used to having only the radio, and I am glad to have it, it’s been frustrating to not be able to listen to podcasts, especially on longer drives like my two recent four-hour St. Louis runs. Years ago, as a Christmas gift, Scott had the aux wire put in for me at a place in Springfield, so one time last year when Andrew and I were up there, we went by that place, hoping to get the wire repaired or replaced. It’s a very good thing we went together. I believe the current vernacular to describe the place would be “sketchy.” Well, actually “seedy” might come closer. It was in a rugged, decrepit part of town and the guy at the counter was really cocky. I didn’t like him at all. His price was $45, but he couldn’t do it that day; I’d have to make an appointment and come back. Which I wasn’t about to do because Andrew wouldn’t be available and I wasn’t about to go there alone.

So I lived podcast-less on the road till last month when I started looking online for an auto audio place that would be closer, cheaper, and less sketchy. I found it at Rick’s Car Audio in Crane. Yes, Crane. Like the bird. In particular, the blue crane. The guy I talked to said he’d have to talk with Rick and he’d call me back. Three weeks later I remembered that he had not, so I called back and the guy said that yes, they could do it for $20-$25 at 10:00 AM on Friday. Fine. I made plans for a little road trip. Although google maps said the drive to Crane would take 42 minutes, it’d be through some extremely scenic rural parts of Stone and Taney Counties (the latter having been named for Chief Justice Roger B. Taney, of recently-removed-from-Maryland-State-House statue infamy). One of my great joys in life is exploring country roads, and I will say that this journey did not disappoint.

Now, because I’m “saving” this particular exploratory adventure to share in full with Katie in a few weeks, and I’m pretty sure she’ll read this post, I will now, with great restraint, limit my comments here to focusing primarily on my experience with Rick’s.

The shop is located on at 122 Main Street in Crane, and when I pulled in at 9:55 for my 10:00 appointment, Rick’s Car Audio appeared dark and empty. However, the door was unlocked, so I walked on in and called out my standard Ozarkian greeting, “Howdy,” at which a man appeared from a back room, greeted me, and turned on the lights. I told him who I was, and he was well aware of what I wanted done. I had parked on the street and told him I didn’t know where to put the car; no  problem, he would move it.

Glancing about the room, I asked if there was a place I could wait, and he said, waving his arm toward the front door, that some place over there across the street served breakfast, and there were a number of antique stores around. I said I could just walk around (the repair was expected to take 20-30 minutes), but he then walked me back to a little (very dumpy) room behind the counter and said they did have a couch. Let’s just say that no one’s backside had graced that piece of furniture in a long time. He began shoving all the junk piled on it to one end to make room for me to sit, but I took the stroll-about town option.  = )

I’m pretty sure I could see all of downtown Crane from the doorway of Rick’s Car Audio. A barbershop. A post office. ABC Accounting. A bank. A library. (Ooh, a small town library!) I resisted the library, at least initially, and wandered instead into The Classey Corner Café. I wasn’t hungry, but I did have a lot of fun perusing the several flea market booths within. In one of them, I found a gem of an old book, Missouri’s Hall of Fame: Lives of Eminent Missourians by Floyd Calvin Shoemaker, A.B., A.M., Secretary of The State Historical Society of Missouri and Editor of The Missouri Historical Review, copyright 1918, published 1923 – price $2.00!

At that point, having killed about 30 delightful minutes, I moseyed back to Rick’s, where the guy told me I was all fixed up and it’d be $20.60.

“Do you take credit cards?”

“Well, Rick can, but he’s not here yet.”

It had not occurred to me to bring any cash.

“OK. I can write you a check.”

“Rick has a card reader on his phone. Without that, you have to pay more and then they charge you every time you use it. He can just swipe it, but he’s not here yet.”

Um, you already told me that.

As I wrote the check and handed it to the guy, another man appeared from the back. Rick perhaps? Well, no.

“Do you need to see my driver’s license or something?”

My guy turned to the other man.

“Do we need anything, uh, on a check?”

The man looked at me, half smiled, and said no.

Now, my request over the phone had been for a cord that was stretchy. I had inquired about a coil cord, like an old timey phone cord. See, I treat my aux cord gently, but I suspect that one of the other people who sometimes drive the Durango had at some point yanked the six-foot cord too hard and shorted it out. I want to reduce the likelihood of similar damage in the future. Whoever I had talked to on the phone – which I suspect was this same guy – had told me he thought there were retractable cords, which sounded great to me, and that he’d check with Rick. So as I was paying, my guy said that Rick had said he could order a different cord and I could come back and they could switch it out. He asked me to write my name and number on the receipt so that he could call me when it came in. The thought of spending another hour and-a-half on the road just to get a stretchy cord seemed excessive, and I didn’t even think to ask if there’d be an additional charge for the replacement, but then again, an hour and-a-half with one of my favorite fellow explorers (I have three and you know who you are!) sounded absolutely delicious, especially considering that our route could potentially involve not one but TWO small town libraries, a very unique and historic bridge, a one-lane country road complete with white lines on both sides and no center line, a town square(!!!), and an as yet completely un-investigated strip of pavement called Swinging Bridge Road!

So I thanked the guy and held out my hand for my receipt.

“You want to take a picture of it?”

Huh? I was confused… ?

“If you take a picture of it then you’ll have it.”

Um… Duh??

“So you’ll have it if you need it.”

This was a new one on me. Evidently he wasn’t going to GIVE me my receipt; I’d have to take a picture of it. Good thing I recently learned how to take pictures with my phone and actually knew where to find my camera app! So I took a picture of it and he put my receipt on top of another one on the counter, and I headed home.

Listening to a podcast as I went!

 

 

 

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