Tag: Ford Escape

The impatient Transformer in my driveway is honking once again.

This Ford Escape honks its horn at random times like it’s seeking our attentoion

I’m a fan of the original Transformers movie in which Shia LaBeouf’s character buys his first car, a used yellow Camaro, which turns out to be an alien autobot-come-to-earth.

He names the car Bumblebee because of its yellow and black coloring.

The story goes from there, with Bumblebee pulling LaBeouf’s character out of dozens of tight situations as he’s fighting the bad Transformers that are hunting the earth and trying to destroy the good Transformers.

I found it amusing that Bumblebee would get impatient with his owner, at different times revving the engine or honking to get his attention.

That’s where my 2014 red Ford Escape comes in. Lately it’s been randomly honking at me, out of the blue.

For instance, the other day my grandson, Solomon, and I were in the front yard of his classmate, along with her mother. We were focused on a turtle the kids had found when the mom told me my car was honking at me.

Sure enough, the Escape was honking at like 30 second intervals in a real quick and not too loud honk. I walked out to the street where it was parked and pulled my keys out of the pocket thinking that maybe I had pressed a key accidentally.

The car ceased honking, and I went back to the neighbor’s yard.

That’s just one example. The previous week the car was parked in the driveway and I was in the back of the house. My wife, Paula, called out to me and said the car was honking and she couldn’t make it stop. I walked out the front door, and the Escape was honking, but at a more frequent pace.

I grabbed my keys and hit the door lock button trying to see if that would help. The honking ceased … for a few minutes. Then it started up again. I went out again, started it up and drove around the block before parking it back in the driveway. The honking ceased again and didn’t resume.

The honking has occurred at random times over a period of months.

Maybe the car just needs some attention in the same way our late Chihuahua, Sam, would bark and growl at us until we gave in and played with him.

So, I’m not sure if we have an alien Transformer disguised as a Ford SUV on our hands or if the car has some sort of electrical issue. I will go with the electrical issue, for now.

But just in case the car is an actual Transformer, I’ve decided to give it a nickname. Happy now, McIntosh?

I no longer hear any honking.

Traffic stop on the Lake Road

lake road
The Lake Hefner Parkway

I was focused on the sports radio banter this morning and negotiating heavy traffic on the Lake Hefner Parkway when my 2-year-old grandson began shouting “GiGi! GiGi!”

I didn’t pick up on it immediately.

However, Solomon was relentless from his car seat in the back. “GiGi! GiGi!”

Suddenly, a red Ford Escape cut sharply into my lane just in front of me. I looked at it and thought that it resembled my family’s vehicle. Then the Ford Escape slowed, put on its blinker and began pulling to the shoulder amid the heavy traffic.

That’s when I saw it. The small sticker on the bumper. That WAS our car. Then it hit me why Solomon was shouting GiGi! My wife Paula, his grandmother, had cut us off on the Lake Road and was pulling us over.

So, I pulled in behind her. She hopped out of her car and began running to our car.

I imagined the worst. Had someone in our family died and this is how she was going to break the news to me, here on the shoulder of the Lake Hefner Parkway?

I rolled down my window and she said, “I think I left my phone in your car.”

What?

Apparently, she had left the phone in the car when she buckled Solomon into his car seat. And her phone was critical to her work-from-home job.

After we left for Solomon’s appointment, Paula realized she didn’t have her phone, jumped in the car and began chasing after us. She managed to catch up on the Lake Road, but couldn’t get my attention until she cut me off with Solomon shouting “GiGi!,” his favorite name for her.

Paula crawled into the back seat and said “call my phone.” I called it and her phone began ringing from the back seat. She couldn’t find it and crawled back out.

“Call it again,” she said. I called, and it started ringing. She crawled across the back seat again.

I glanced back and saw it.

Paula’s phone was sticking out of the back pocket of her jeans. It had been there the entire time.

We both (sort of) laughed when we realized where the phone actually was.

And I’ll never let her live it down.