I decided to take a scooter ride to Valley Junction. All swimming and carefree until Hy-Vee, when the sidewalk along EP True/Railway disappeared for 3 giant blocks. The construction appeared to be either the cause or the result of the gas problems; all the pavers are gone and little "Live Gas Line" flags fluttered in the smooth dark soil dotted with gravel and pebbles. Tootling along on the roadway seemed a terrible idea, so I decided to push the scooter along on the dirt. Like I've done before.

What I haven't done before is walk/push on what amounts to dark clay that has never seen the baking light of Iowa summer, and has been soaking up rain for the past few days. In three steps, my soles and the wheels were encrusted with sticky black mess of mud and stone, and every step picked up baseball-sized divots from the obliging ground. I stashed my overcoat in the bag and carried the Zappy for 3 blocks through the mud as an occasional pickup honked and young women stared derisively through their car window. It was oddly familiar, and not in a good way.

After the slog, I assessed the damage. Faithful yellow Danskos, covered in mud. Khakis, streaked with mud. Zappy --

Front wheel well choked with mud. Rear drive belt now out of alignment, thanks to mud between the belt and sprocket. Rear wheel therefore locked. Can't drive it, can't push it.

I scraped out the front wheel well best I could with twigs, and set out for the Water Works park pushing the thing on the front wheel. If I could find a faucet, I figured, I could wash out the belt and get it working again. Otherwise, I was looking at dragging/carrying the 40+ pounds of dead weight home, through the mud again.

You'd think Water Works would have water. Not so much. The water in the park was actually turned off, as the womenfolk from a couple of minivanned families there informed me. They were unmoved my plight and addressed their replies to someone who was floating 2 inches above my head and off to the side. The bottled water held in their hands warned me not to even think about asking for a ride. The two guys who were messing with the flag were equally bored by my quest for a faucet.

Well, this really was like the old days. Fine. I heaved the Zappy belly-up onto a picnic table (they can clean it off when the water gets turned off) and proceeded to scrape the dirt out of the drive with twigs and a knitting needle, tooth by tooth. I don't know how long it took, but the belt eased back into place. I went onto Valley Junction, mud and all, exchanged a skein of yarn, turned around and went home. This time, I took the road.

I ended up being out for 3 and a half hours, only 40 or so minutes of it riding and in the store. And I still have to clean the scooter and my poor shoes.

Voting against party line:

For the YEAs -- Chafee (R-RI); Coleman (R-MN); Collins (R-ME); DeWine (R-OH); McCain (R-AZ); Smith (R-OR); Snowe (R-ME).

For the NAYs -- Akaka (D-HI); Inouye (D-HI); Landrieu (D-LA)

We held the line for 4 years, hoping that 2004 would mean we wouldn't have to for another 4. The worst thing is, most Americans are too busy following the Scott Peterson sentencing/Robert Blake acquittal/Michael Jackson trial to even notice this raging battle.

Give me tomorrow morning and I'll be back to fighting shape. But as I approach my fourth most-nighter in as many days, I can't say I'm not feeling down.