Solution

There were three problems:
1) A back bumper on my trusty little Toyota pickup that was rusting plum off (and being held on by a single thread of tetnus with a yellow strap),
2) Lovely summer drives through the mountains (aka- commutes) were being disturbed by annoying tailgaters, particularly ones of the teenage boy and redneck lady variety, and
3) My busy summer schedule had me feeling a little too confined to my proverbial "box."

The solution to these three diverse and seemingly unrelated problems came to me as a single item with a wide array of delightful implications...

A new good-damn bumper.

First, a quick backstory: For approximately the last year and a half, I have been hassling my friend and co-worker Zoe, who is a lady of many talents, to make me a new bumper. First she was planning on it, but then she moved out of her metal working shop and it seemed impossible to do. I still hassled her a bit more about it though, and finally she said, "Dana, I can't make you a bumper." I mostly gave up on the idea, and just let my bumper rust and rot as I drove through the mountains, day in and day out.
Then one day earlier this summer, Jenna my sister saw my bumper and exclaimed, "Dana- what the $%^* is wrong with your $%^-@#$* bumper!" I told her that it was rusting off. I went on to tell her that originally Zoe was going to make me a new one, but that it wasn't going to work out because she didn't have a workshop anymore. Jenna, being the true and trusty good dedicated sister she is, had my back. "Do you want me to call Zoe for you and take care of it?" she asked. I said sure.
A two minute phone call later I was next in line for a custom made bumper. For those interested, the phone call went a little something like this:
Jenna: Hey Zoe. (pause) No- it's not Dana, it's Jenna.
Pause
Jenna: You need to make my sister a new bumper because her @#$%-ing bumper is falling off!
Pause
Jenna: (in a real sweet and sing-songy voice) Thank you Zoe.
Pause
Jenna: (in that same sweet and happy voice) I'm doing preeeeety good Zoe.

Simple as that.

In no time flat, Zoe had produced a bumper for me that:
1) saved me from that awful jury-rigged eyesore of a rusty piece of crap that I was rolling with on my tail end for so long
2) hooked me up with a bad ass piece of converted weight-lifting equipment and old car parts that I'm hoping one glance of will have even the boldest of tailgaters reaching that foot for the break, and
3) hoisted me out of my proverbial "box" for two exciting and unforgettable evening sessions of bumper work in two unique locations.

Session one: The removal of the old bumper and prep work for the new bumper
Location: The driveway, back porch and kitchen of Zoe's shared punk house of amiable chaos and prolific creativity
Tasks accomplished: Old bumper removal involved some manipulation of rusty bolts, some metal cutting with an angle grinder and some old fashioned sweating and grunting (paired with ample giggling); new metal brackets were fashioned and measurements were taken for the welding of the parts
What I did: Examine the floor to ceiling art displayed on all walls of the house while making commentary, ask a lot of detailed questions about the art and the housemates, take pictures, laugh a lot and hand Zoe tools when needed
What Zoe did: All the work (and laugh a lot)




I left at dark that night last week feeling pumped up from having spent an evening out of my little world and jazzed about the upcoming bumper installation session...Read on.

Session Two: The welding of the bumper
Location: Deep Six Cycles shop in south Asheville-
Tasks accomplished: Holes were drilled in the new brackets after measurements from Session One were confirmed correct; Brackets were resized to accomodate smooth tailgate opening and closing; New bumper was "tacked" to brackets on the actual truck sight; Welding was completed on a table in the shop, and bumper was secured to truck with bolts
What I did: Look around Tom's shop curiously while asking both him and Zoe a plethora of questions, take pictures, listen to death metal and Johnny Cash, check out Tom's motorcycle friend's brown recluse bite, tell stories, occasionally hand Zoe a tool
What Zoe did: All the work; be a bad ass






Much chuckling and marvelling at the world beyond my little cubby-hole of a life was done all evening. I felt like a tourist on a staycation over there in the motorcycle shop, and I relished every minute of it, inhaling deeply the refreshing smell of motor oil and auto parts and admiring the craftspersonship of both Zoe and her metal mentor Tom. One of my favorite things to do is watch someone work, particularly when that person loves their work.





There you have it. The lovely new bumper. I may be dreaming, but it seems to me that since it has been on, people behind me have been slowing down just a little bit before passing my slow granny driving ass. The only things I have left to do are spray the bumper with some rust inhibiting finish product, figure out a way to grow some tiny succulents back there on the new boy and hook Zoe up with delightful treats for a long time to come.