Martha's Laugh Lines: Driving Mr. Bradbury

When science fiction writer Ray Bradbury agreed to speak for my writing club's annual banquet some years ago, I had no idea I'd get to be the one to chauffeur him to the event. It seems the gifted author doesn't drive, so our club president asked my husband and me if we'd mind picking him up at his west Los Angeles home. Mind? Was she kidding? I'd been following Ray Bradbury's career ever since I'd heard him speak at my junior high school. This would be the chance of a lifetime. I'd have the noted author all to myself for an hour each way–even longer if we had car trouble.

Imagine it–the one-and-only Ray Bradbury, author of Fahrenheit 451, The Martian Chronicles and The Illustrated Man, sitting my car. Of course, I'd have to wash it and perhaps even repaint it, and it did need a little body work, and...well, actually, the more I thought about it the harder it was to imagine the one-and-only Ray Bradbury sitting in that car. I was certain an author of Bradbury's worldwide fame was used to riding in chauffeur-driven limousines. Somehow, picking him up in our aging subcompact seemed a little like serving caviar from a Baggie.

"Oh, come on, Martha–he's mortal just like the rest of us," insisted my husband when I half-jokingly made the suggestion of selling our house and buying a new Jaguar for the event. "I'm sure Mr. Bradbury won't care what kind of car we drive. Anyway, you don't want to look pretentious."

He had a point. I didn't want to look pretentious. I don't like that in people. But this was a special occasion. It might have called for a little pretentiousness. Besides, we could use the dealership's rebate to pay for our banquet tickets.

My logic made no sense to my husband, but it didn't matter because a good friend of ours, the owner of a beautiful new Cadillac, soon came to the rescue. He graciously offered to trade cars with us for the evening.

It was raining the night of the banquet, and we were running a little behind schedule when we arrived at our friend's home to switch vehicles. He handed us the keys and gave a quick rundown on how to operate the rows and rows of little buttons lining the dashboard of the Cadillac. Likewise, I handed him our keys and explained how to operate our car.

"Insert the key in the ignition and pray."

With only 30 minutes to get to west L.A., we drove down the freeway making fairly good time, that is, until the windows began to fog up.

"Do you remember which button he said would turn on the defrost?" my husband asked, wiping the windshield with his shirt sleeve.

I shook my head.

Visibility inside the car was reaching zero, so in a panic I began pushing all the buttons in sight.

"Is it on yet?" I asked.

"No, but the air-conditioner is, and I think the trunk just flew open."

"I haven't tried this one yet," I said, reaching for yet another button.

"Don't touch that one," he snapped.

"Why not?"

"It opens the sunroof."

"How do you know that?" I asked, drawing back my hand.

"I pushed it earlier when I was trying to find the windshield wipers."

By now there were only three buttons left to try, so I pushed them all at once. The first two reclined each of our seats, and the third set off the security alarm.

Needless to say, it was an interesting trip. By the time we reached Ray Bradbury's home, we had somehow managed to turn off everything that was supposed to be turned off and turned on everything that was supposed to be turned on–everything, that is, except for the defroster. We never did find that button. 

All in all, it was an evening I'll never forget. The Cadillac was beautiful, and I appreciated our friend letting us use it. Considering Ray Bradbury's status as a writer, it was good that we were able to pick him up in style. But considering his warm and unassuming personality, I have a feeling he would have enjoyed our old family car every bit as much.

Originally appeared in When the Meat Loaf Explodes: It's Done, Martha Bolton

Martha Bolton is an Emmy- and Dove-nominated writer, and the author of over fifty books, including Didn’t My Skin Used to Fit? and Cooking With Hot Flashes. Her just released book, Your Best Nap Now is now available at most bookstores.  For speaking or additional information, check out her website at: www.marthabolton.com

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