The King of Knuckleheads

For a few hours this morning I was in the presence of royalty. None other than the King of Knuckleheads was driving the truck carrying my insulation. Though humility is hard to find in a king, this one cared not that truck driving might be beneath him. He was having a good time, circumstances be damned. After backing his way down Sis Porter Rd, he was in the middle of making a valiant attempt to pull the back end of his rig onto our drive when the left half of his front end went a little too far off the pavement and promptly sunk in the mud. The whole thing was pitched to such a degree that most of the wheels on his right side were up in the air. The King knew at once that he was hopelessly grounded. He laughed it off; kings do not let such trifling matters ruffle their feathers. He called for help, and then started taking pictures to send off to his subjects and document his extreme degree of stuckness. "Ron has just got to see this!" he said as he snapped a shot of his wheels floating in air. While we waited for the tow truck, I was lucky enough to hear royal tales of ridiculously excessive beer drinking (his belly was size of a keg) and four wheeling with his friends. He never stopped talking. For about two hours his chariot completely blocked Sis Porter Rd.
On the plus side we did get to meet the folks from the other end of Sis Porter, who, looking for a way out, found a tractor trailer blocking their path. Fortunately, they didn't seem to mind or have any place urgent to go. Perhaps they were simply humbled by the presence of The Knuckleheaded King. But we got our insulation. It could have been much worse if the early morning rain had continued. Instead we got a swampy afternoon in the 80's.