It was 1968, and the movie was “Funny Girl.” Fanny Brice (played by Barbra Streisand) convinced the Broadway director she could roller skate. In the scene “Rollerskate Rag,” Barbra rolls out on stage knocking down everyone in sight. The director grabs her backstage, “You told me you could roller skate!”
She replies, “I didn’t know I couldn’t!”
I have loved the scene because I wished I were that kind of person. Our youngest girl-child is that kind of person. If she wants something she goes for it. I admire her tenacity. So here we are listening to her plans to move to Las Vegas, Nevada. Nothing will stop her. She told her dad, “I’m going to make this happen!” And she will. She’ll roller skate if she has to.
She plans to attend the University of Nevada at Las Vegas. It gets more interesting. She’s decided to live in a 1974 vintage Airstream in the Nevada desert, her and Frank, the dog.
And so it was that we, her family members, spent hours searching the Internet for vintage Airstreams; besides Craigslist there are oodles of other sites. There were endless phone calls and then a plan to see the most prospects in the least amount of time. The clock was ticking.
We left early for Alabama to meet a prospective seller at a warehouse. It was a quick walk-through. The trailer was typical Airstream, a little rough. We decided it was a bit too rough for our time frame. We were off to the next prospect. The next seller, Jake, said, “I’ll meet you at the gas station and lead you to the lot.”
When we drove up Jake was asleep in his car. We followed this goofy but friendly-looking fellow deep in the backwoods. Along the way we discussed Craigslist whackos we’d heard about on the news. We didn’t have a weapon. I thought I had a nail file.
We arrived at the lake lot where the Airstream was parked on a cliff looking straight down 100 yards to the water. Getting the trailer out meant towing it straight up another 50 yards to the first reasonably flat road.
The Airstream suited her dreams. We agreed to it and called a tow truck driver. Seeing the massive red tow truck made us feel hopeful.
Three hours later the tow truck had moved the Airstream 20 feet. The tow truck, massive as it looked, had street tires. We dismantled Jake’s fire pit to put rocks under the tires, then broken tree limbs. We pushed. We pulled. Then Tony, the tow truck driver, suggested Sam hook on to the front of the tow truck and give it a yank. Sam, with his two-wheel drive new truck parked on pavement, pulled the tow truck, pulling the 31-foot Airstream.
The yank worked, though it left about 20,000 miles worth of rubber on the pavement. Late that night a 1974 Airstream crept through the backroads of Alabama toward home. And soon the Airstream will take the girl-child and her dog Frank on to the desert, because the girl-child never for one minute thinks she can’t.
The Dispatch Editorial Board is made up of publisher Peter Imes, columnist Slim Smith, managing editor Zack Plair and senior newsroom staff.
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