While driving to work this morning I had a brilliant idea for a blog-entry which now I can’t remember. I think it had something to do gratitude or perhaps the operatic stage. Between getting up from the office chair and arriving at the waiting room I am blanking out on whom to fetch. I haven’t had my tea today so I hope this is the cause and not something sinister like a popped artery leading to the parts of the brain where focus lies. I have precious few focus neurons to begin with; I can’t afford to lose any.
Spo-fans recall last week Someone was in an accident which left a dent (in the car door, not Someone). Given the holidays we haven’t had time to take it to the body repairman. Meanwhile I have come to the conclusion this is the gods’ omen it is time for a replacement (the car, not Someone). The 2001 four-door Honda was purchased just prior to 9-11. At 240,000 miles our intrepid Honda keeps on going but is looking quite dog-eared even before the passenger door imploded. I am normally not one for vanity, but I have become conscious parking next to The Other Doctor’s car at work. He drives a scarlet Porsche. I am feeling un petit tatterdemalion.
Shopping for cars is one those tasks that falls into the “sooner I’d eat rats at Tewksbury” category . The tedious task of researching and viewing cars and then negotiating with car salesmen (overall a shifty bunch) is something to be avoided. I suppose it is like cooking I don’t have a lot of experience. Someone or somebody has always done my car buys for me, starting with Father, then a series of car-buyer consultants, and ending up with Someone (who is very good at it and generally likes this sort of thing).
Alas, we/he has had no time recently to start the ponderous process of picking a Prius or Porsche.* I think he is hoping the insurance covers the Honda damage enough to get it moving along until 300,000 miles or until it drops or I drop – whatever comes first. Spo-fans are welcome to tell me about car recommendations. My priorities are gas mileage and a repair shop near work.
*Sorry, I had to think of something beginning with “P”. My writings are supposed to be lyrical as well as readable.