A religious experience

A good friend loaned me a "book on tape" for a long drive I have tomorrow, and I was all excited because it was Molly Ivin's last book, published after her death. I make no bones about my reverence for Molly and the fact that I miss her wit and perception and her interpretation of what is going on in the world and why. Then, when I got the "book" I was disappointed in realizing that is was not a book on tape...but a book on CD.

The CD player in my car has been dead for two years. I tried to have it fixed after it made a crunching sound when I tried to insert a disc some time back. They were able to get my disc out but said the player was toast and that I needed to buy a new one. I did the math and bought XM radio, Air America, BBC, Blues, 60's, and World Cup soccer, for about the same money as the new cd player would have cost. I never missed it until I opened Molly's book and saw those discs.

I had decided that I could use my laptop as a player and headphones and make it a couple of hours down the road until the battery gave out and them I would flip back to something on the satellite. But at some point on Interstate 81, probably in that desolate stretch north of Abingdon, I would be left hanging...Just like in real life, when Molly died.

An unfinished story is a terrible thing to folks who love yarns. Even better if it's non-fiction. Some of the best stories I ever hear are the ones told amongst friends who were actually there when whatever it was went down. Big Games, disasterous wedding receptions, car wrecks, or practical jokes (which I dislike intensely, just so you know). Some folks can tell you about something you experienced with them much better than you remember it yourself. Molly could do that, and I was looking forward to hearing about it.

Wandering around town, I was getting the tires changed, oil changed, underwear changed, and all those things one does on the way out of town for a trip. I looked at the CD player on the dash and wondered what is was that had messed up inside that little slot that the cd's go through. I knew it was the changer mechanism and not the electronics. I thought about Molly and looked at the buttons on the cd player. For some reason I pushed the eject button, expecting to hear the usual whine and crunch and silence indicating that it was going to refuse to cooperate. it functioned perfectly. After two years and being pronounced dead? I couldn't believe it.

I had long ago given up and removed the cd's from the car, so I stopped and searched the various compartments for something to play. I found the first album that No Doubt had recorded in a side pocket. and plugged it in. next thing I know, Gwen Stefani and I are rocking out.

I have given this some thought and decided that this is an example of divine intervention. My CD player is back from the dead.

As a result of this miracle, I offer Molly Ivins to be hereafter known as "Saint Molly"