I am sitting in the Hyundai service center, waiting for the mechanic or someone like him.  It was allegedly a simple oil-change but you know how these things go. I fear they will find something frazzled that needs immediate attention and mega-bucks. Being the Boy Scout that I am (Second Class I recall) I brought along a lot to-do items and enough reading material to last a lifetime. About the latter: I recently finished a history of how Prince Charles managed to get out of England before the Roundheads got him. I won’t spoil the ending for you lest some Spo-fans haven’t read it. 

I could get up and walk around and buy a car. Someone’s birthday is in a fortnight and he has no clue what he wants. He ‘needs’ a new car – the 2001 (yes, you read that right) is dead as a doornail in the garage. I want someone to haul it away and replace it with something new no rubbish.

I won’t miss the 2001 but it had a simplicity which was charming.  Nowadays cars come with more computer buttons than an airplane. Rumor has it they are beginning to drive themselves and they receive telepathic requests freeing the drivers to gape at their phones even more than they already do. My needs in a car are simple: get me there and back again with good gas mileage and where is the button to turn on the podcasts. Several of the salesmen here have appealing looks so following one of them around for awhile doesn’t sound too bad for my wait.  

I had hoped the Muses would Grace me (pun intended) with something more profound or witty upon which to write than this but there it is. One doesn’t look gift horses in the mouth, and that includes new cars. Tune in tomorrow to see if I got laid or I bought a 2018 Elantra hybrid or actually wrote an exciting entry. 

 

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