evel knievel tribute – oklahomo diary, part 1
1.
I typed “Oklahoma” into weather.com and nothing happened. It just sat there spinning. I hit stop, and typed it in again. Same thing. I opened a new browser window, went to weather.com, typed it in again, and it just sat there spinning. I realized I didn’t even know where Oklahoma is, and I wondered if weather.com didn’t know either.
Rick was outside my office telling everyone that he was going to go to the surplus store right after work to get some thermals. “It’s cold there,” he said.
Weather.com was still spinning.
“Did I spell it right?” I wondered.
I sounded it out: Ok-la-homo.
I canceled my search and Googled “oklahomo” instead.
“Oklahomo sucks big penis,” read the first Google entry, “and i hate oklahomo and people butt rape each other in oklahomo.”
Hm.
My friend Jessica is from Oklahoma. I wrote her an email before we left to see if she couldn’t offer some interesting things to do while we were there.
“OH MY GOOD GOD, dave,” she wrote back. “i am so very very sorry you have to go to that horrible place. and i do mean that…oklahoma city is nothing more than a giant pile of shit with rednecks stuck in it. at least tulsa has a ‘night-life.’ no, not much of one…but OKC is simply frightening. we will have many drinks for you because that is what you will have to be doing…for some reason every time I went to oklahoma city i got into a fight…hopefully you have a better experience!”
Hm.
I told Tania we were going to Oklahoma to film some motorcycle guys trying to kill themselves for Evel Knievel. She wondered if we were going to Idaho next to film potatoes growing.
2.
There was a midget in Oklahoma. The midget’s name was Big Mike. Big Mike was Trigger’s midget.
“Shit, I wish I had brought my midget,” Knoxville said.
“Can I call you a midget?” I asked the midget. Some midgets don’t like to be called midgets. They prefer “little people.”
“Yeah, fuck those faggots,” he said understanding the nib of my gist. “Fucking little bitches, fucking should just fucking shutup and shit.”
I was never sure exactly what Big Mike was saying, but it was always heavily laden with cuss words.
I liked Big Mike. But he was a feisty little fucker. He was nice to me, but I got the feeling that if you crossed him, he’d bite you. And then you’d die from all the bacteria in his Komodo dragon mouth. We were all slightly frightened of him. Our midget is nice and cuddly, but you had to keep your eye on Trigger’s midget.
In addition to being feisty and dangerous, he was a very proud little fella. The mere mention of Wee Man would throw him into a tizzy.
“You think you can beat Wee Man in a motorcycle race?” I asked.
“Shit, I’d fuckin’ kick his fuckin’ ass,” he snarled.
Rick thinks Wee Man would win. It’s a tough call, but Big Mike does hold the midget passenger long distance world record, after all. I don’t know, I guess we’ll have to set that up to find out.
