A Grandiose Trampoline Loiters Touchingly in Death Valley

<>So what? It's raining. Lloyd never let a little rain get to him. As for the 13 strange passengers he was chauffeuring on a tour of Death Valley, well, Lloyd didn't give a rat's ass about this particular crew of sniveling Japanese ne'er-do-wells. In fact, were this 10 years ago the tour would have been over 2 hours ago.

<>Back in ‘89 Lloyd could have paid his drinking buddy, Half-Wit Cherokee Shoeshine, three bucks to drop a couple of his extra-ornery scorpions at the Meteor Crater 45 stop, and one ouch later they'd've had 'em one helluva medivac carnival on their hands.
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As the "Death Valley Near Death Experience Tour" contract clearly states, "At such time as a near death experience, the definition of which shall be defined solely by the operator(s) of the Death Valley Near Death Experience Tour coach, is experienced by any member(s) of a Death Valley Near Death Experience Tour, all tour experiences, near-death or otherwise, shall immediately cease, and no refunds, full or partial, shall be offered by, or demanded from, the operators of Death Valley Near Death Experience Tours, their heirs, assigns or creditors."

<>Well, those were the days. Half-Wit's gone all Mormon Missionary and Lloyd's been left too his own devices so long he hardly gets a thrill out of exposing himself to an unsuspecting front seat passenger anymore. Life's gone from surreal to super-real in less time than it takes a desert rat do whatever it is desert rats do. Ah hell, things have become so predictable for Lloyd he's actually thinking of giving up his dream job and hopping the Ringling Brothers'-Barnum & Bailey's Circus train as it makes its annual "Greatest Show on Earth" wobble across the hottest place on the planet.And why not?

It wasn't so long ago that Lloyd's future shown like a heatdistorted jewel on the horizon. He was, after all, Chintzy, California's synchronized, underwater trampoline star. Was it his fault his father lost his job at the uranium reprocessing plant and couldn't afford to buy Lloyd a top-quality nose piece for the state finals?

<>How many times had Lloyd replayed that fateful day as he coaxed the decaying Super Shuttle cast-off through the miles of rocks, rocks and more rocks? Was it really so sad that he might never have the chance to turn the tables on the these mysterious eastern transients by spending two weeks trampling through Roppongi and ambling up Mount Fuji?

No.

Lloyd had created a place for himself. Built from the 'what-mighthave-beens' of his life. Festooned in year-round Christmas lights and plastic Halloween doo-dads. Lloyd's catapult to fame rests. A grandiose trampoline loiters touchingly in Death Valley.