|
My Profile
Gift from Hil Part 2 - 2014-12-30
|
2:35 a.m. - 2011-10-09
Boy oh boy. I go any further up my ass and I'm gonna need a miner's helmet. I have been paying attention to the larger world and am slowly rebuilding my favorites list as I collect blog addresses from folks' comments. (*hint* *hint*) But what I feel like writing about is closer to home. Could I happily give every protester occupying Wall St a big kiss and a cookie? Absolutely. Then on the flipside there's another intellectually incurious, religiously motivated, not disingenuous- he's really that dumb- guy from Texas making a serious run at the White House. And I just don't think Americans have brought enough disaster on themselves yet. Yet another dimwit with the world view of a microbe from the land of scorpions and high school football is exactly what this moronic country will insist upon having. AGAIN. And I don't make enough fricken money to immigrate to Canada. Think I'll just hang out here in my own messy life, thanks. And messy it is. Perfect example of how it goes. Thursday morning Mick and I leave to go see FIL in the hospital. We didn't end up staying long. The medicos wanted to do stuff to him. Now Mick and I had already planned to see about getting a Focus at a different dealership on Saturday, but on the way home as we rolled up on the dealership which had come to my rescue when the brake lines blew I told Mick to pull in. Wanted to take a test drive. We did. Found the exact car we wanted. The SEL 5-door in Frosted Glass. HERE. Very excited but needing to be home for the kid since he didn't have his house key with him we told the salesperson we'd be back later in the day and we'd bring our trade-in. She sent us off with a hopeful smile. (Gads it must be tough selling cars these days, glad I'm out of it.) We weren't gone from home for more than two hours. Yet when we went to turn onto our road we saw it had been oiled and graveled while we were gone! Dust. Grit. Gravel spanging around in every direction. THE worst conditions to drive our freshly spiffed up truck back to the dealership. Then if we did get a new car that's what we'd have to drive down to get it home. Now I ask you, how unfair is this? What are the odds? How often do I buy a new car? Like once every never. And how often do they oil and gravel this road? One time since we bought this place nine years ago. Not sure exactly when. After we moved in but before the divorce. 7? 8 years back? Now calculate the random coincidence of these two events coming together last Thursday. Uh huh. This is my life. Just a bit more raggedy and stupid than most. Not really bitching here. I got to take the new car out for a tootle today. First chance I'd had to go out on my own. I fiddled with the seat and the mirrors and the steering wheel position. Got to know the stereo and the shifting curve. The upshift has a lag I'm not best pleased about but we'll adjust. I'll know the car and it'll know me soon enough. Someday I'll relearn the art of the automatic transmission. On my jaunt I inadvertently dusted a Porsche 911, deliberately twiddled my fingers at a shiny new Fiesta coming the other way (Go Ford!) and easily navigated the drive-up ATM lane at my bank. On the way out I caught CSNY and Madonna on WCBS and WPLJ and on the way home it was Stevie Ray Vaughan and AC/DC on WPDH and WNNJ. I didn't hands-free call anybody. Tempted, but I wanted to commune with the new car all on my own. I luuuuuuurve the new car. Whose name is Frosty, btw. Mick did it. Since to me the color is so evocative of mermaids I was leaning toward Lorelei or Poseidon, but Mick slapped 'Frosty' on it before I could intervene. And you have to go with the first name. I've tried this with pets, but the newer cooler name never takes. You (and the pet) are forever stuck with 'Sparky' or 'Ginger'. I remember a TV interview with Moon Zappa and how she had 'naming things' trauma. The expectation that she'd either top or repudiate her father's 'creative' naming struck her mute on the subject of choosing names. Even her childhood teddy bear was called 'teddy bear'. She just couldn't bring herself to hang a handle on it. It's for damn sure 'Frosty' isn't my first choice. It does, however, fit the meter. "Frosty the Focus was a very jolly car. With a chrome tailpipe and a "There it goes!" and four tires made to roll! Frosty the Focus..." If we are to be trite, at least we are trite to a good beat you can dance to. Why am I up this late? Damned if I know.
|
