Mongo Gets Repaired

It was a tenuous proposition to begin with. Driving from Indiana to Florida is a test of any vehicle’s reliability. But, Mongo… Mongo could do it.

Mongo, my 1992 duo-toned Ford art-caper van, had a history of being disagreeable with the east. The van, being of old age and habit, would reliably break down each time the previous owner tried to drive it to Ohio. There were whispers of Mongo and the curse of Ohio.

I bought the van during the summer of 2006. A couple of months later, I was stopped at a gas station on the way to Cleveland, Ohio. While pumping gas, I noticed a large puddle growing by my feet. It was gasoline. The more I pumped, the more the puddle grew. Drizzle, drizzle, drizzle, went the little stream of gasoline. Right from the pump, onto the floor.

At least it wasn’t a problem with the engine. The hose to the gas tank was replaced, and we were good to go. Yeah! Good to go all the way to an art show in Florida. It’s hard to decide to do an art show in Florida. The expenses are high. You pretty much need to drive to get all your work and display down there. And, the length of the trip takes away from time working on other things. In Febuary, 2007, fresh with optimism, Hannah and I packed up the van, dug a path through the snow, and pushed off to Miami.

Setting up for an art show is stressful. There’s the logistics of getting the tent and display up, and the artwork hung. There’s remembering to charge the battery on the credit card machine. There’s hoping you brought the right mix of work. And, there’s the wondering if, after all this effort, there will be enough interest in your work to make expenses. I have a hard time letting go of this mental baggage when setting up. If possible, I favor a slow, laid-back setup, followed by a nice dinner where I can try to convince myself that this is a sane way to make a living.

Things were smooth on the way to Miami. We were going to arrive in the afternoon, with plenty of time to setup and then to explore the area before dinner. Then, I noticed Mongo was hesitating going up hills. One more hesitation, and then… nothing - the engine stalled. We were on the highway. I worked on trying to restart the engine, and at the same time switch lanes to get onto the shoulder. We coasted to a stop. The engine wouldn’t start.

I wasn’t sure where we were, but we were close to the show site. There was a highway sign in the distance, but it was too far away for me to read. No problem, I grabbed my camera with a telephoto lens, took a picture and zoomed up on the LCD display. Yeah! Try doing that with film. That’s the picture attached to this post. We were 20 miles from the show site. After going all that distance, we couldn’t make those last 20 miles.

Now, we’re racing against time. It’s getting near 4pm. The show requires that you’re setup before they close the site for the evening. After an hour, the tow truck arrives. Traffic is getting thick with rush hour. On the way to the mechanic, the truck takes us right past the show site! I considered asking if the van could be dropped off in front of our spot. There it was, after a thousand miles, the site of the show. We drove right by it, not knowing if we would ever get there.

We got to the service station. They wouldn’t be able to look at the van until the next day. I called around to the car rental companies in the area, but it was already past 6pm and they were closed. I was exasperated - ready to find a hotel and call it a night. No.. there must be a way. A call to the Miami airport car rental located a cargo van. A cab ride and a few hours later, we had the rental van back at the mechanic. It was dark as we unloaded everything from Mongo into the plain white cargo van. People walked by wondering what we were up to. I tried not to look suspicious.

We finally got to the show site, and talked our way past the security guards. It was near 2am when we finished setting up. There was no dinner. We were exhausted.

The next day, the sun came up and Mongo was repaired.

Posted in The Mongo Chronicles | No Comments »

The Mongo Chronicles

Two years ago, I started exhibiting in outdoor art festivals. I planned on traveling to these shows in my Volkswagen hatchback. It’s a small car, but hatchbacks can fit a surprising amount of stuff with the back seats folded down. In this space, I aspired to fit: Framed and matted photographs, 300 square feet of display walls, a canopy tent, display bins, lighting, and a dolly. I bought a rooftop bag for extra room. And yes, I thought it would work. Even though everyone else would be driving RVs and cargo vans, I would discover new ways of compactness which would allow me to fit all the same stuff into a compact car. Minimize, minimize! I always bring too much stuff anyways. It’ll be good for me.

When it comes down to it, after putting all the investment into printing/framing and display materials, I didn’t want to spend any more money on a larger vehicle.

After I had all my equipment together, it occurred to me that perhaps my heroic hatchback wouldn’t be up for the job. Even with the rooftop bag, and supreme Tetris style arranging skills, I don’t think I would’ve had a chance. That spring, on the way to a local art festival, I noticed a full size van for sale. It was brown 1992 Ford E150, complete with a two toned paint job and racing stripe goodness. No… I couldn’t. I went home and looked at my big pile of art show stuff and that little hatchback.

I called the owner of the van, who happens to be a potter that lives about 10 minutes away from me. The van was in fabulous shape. The interior looked almost new. The back bench seat folds out into a full size bed, perfect for camping out during long trips. And, it was so roomy. I could fit all the art show stuff with room to spare. You know how this logic goes - when you’ve decided that you need something, the correct rationale appears. We came to an agreement, and arranged for me to take it home the next day. By the way, she said, we’ve named the van Mongo. There was a tone of longing adoration in her voice as she declared it’s name, “Mongo”.

The next day, the seller mentioned that they gave Mongo a proper goodbye. The previous evening, she and her husband sat in the van with glasses of wine, and toasted to the good journeys that they had shared. She told me, take good care of Mongo. They added: Be prepared, now, for helping everyone that you know when they need to move something big.

And so began, in May 2006, our adventures with Mongo. More to come….

Posted in The Mongo Chronicles | 2 Comments »