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A disheartening attempt to re-start and back WetVan off the road made it apparent that WetVan wasn't going
anywhere without assitance. On a large sheet of paper, I scrawled a message to the effect that I was an artist, that
WetVan was my art project and that we'd encountered engine trouble and hd set off in hopes of securing a tow truck.
It being Sunday night, I was dubious but I left my phone number and my name and we set off for Seymour- the closest town with
a possibly open garage.
Luck was on our side as a garage was open and turned out it was the garage that two good friends of had used often. I
held up the copy of the local newspaper (The New Haven Advocate) that just happened to have an article about me and WetVan
in it on page 35. (good picture, too!) I think this impressed the mechanics that they had a celebrity artist in their midst
and they hastened to call the tow truck driver. We obtained a light meal of sushi and ate it in the car while waiting the
collection of WetVan. A price for retrieving WetVan was established, a deal brokered and I assured the garage
that I would be in touch with them early the next day to determine the fate of WetVan. Things were looking up and we
set out for home occasionally erupting into laughter over the appropriate end to WetVan- brief, brutal and worthy of
opera.
There were two messages awaiting our arrival home: the first was from the (very puzzled) police stating, "We have located
your van at the side of the road and we are having it towed..." Very restrained, very dry. I imediately called them and attempted
to clear up any confusion about what exactly it was that they had discovered at the side of the road. I suspect they considered
the whole thing a Home Land Security threat or a mobile Meth Lab, although they were pleased to report that my tow truck had
shown up and that seemed to be that.
The next message was from a good friend, Ben, also an artist involved with City Wide open Studios. He was chortling delightedly
as he described driving home along Route 133 when he saw multiple blinking lights and a fire truck and at least five police
cars. He expects to see an accident as he draws alongside and instead... there's WetVan! "Boy, you guys were the wildest thing
to hit Woodbridge in years!" says Ben and he proceeds to relate how he stopped and made an effort to explain to the confused,
head scratching police that this was indeed an art piece, that it had been on display in New Haven and that he knew the artist.
Seeing as how they let him go without further questioning, he must have presented credibly. We must remember that this was
Hell Night, to boot.
And so, WetVan was towed with all ceremony and pomp to the garage, where he is still stationed, stripped of internal
glassware but still externally festooned with miles and miles of packing tape. A blown engine deprives us of the "Continuing
Adventures of WetVan", but history was made.
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