(Ooops, long post.) Coincidence Day again. Coincidence follows me like my pants. Now please remember, I was a Boy Scout. I can, and did, make the Boy Scout sign before beginning this post. I don't believe I've disgraced that sign, yet, though I may have to look at the Boy Scout Manual.
Ahhh, if I start on my Boy Scout Memories, I won't be able to get to the coincidence, which would show a lack of Scouting Focus. Let's say there are some unanswered questions.
(I BET they have a "computers" merit badge now. I could sure use one to fix my e-mail.)
A little teaser coincidence: Speaking of accidents, I was born in Pasadena. (In the back seat of a Greyhound Bus, rollin down... ~ no, wait.)
Eom writes about his Toyota: "It was an 87 with 130k on it, and was ready to go, despite my constant attention."
I'm a ruralite, as if people couldn't tell. We keep our transports in good mechanical health. Yet I prefer cars that are not new, so I can run through the bushes. So that the heartbreak from "normal wear and tear" is reduced. Say for example some duct tape on a tail light, a tiny door dent, a buck-tooth trim piece. Maybe even one small tear in the upholstery ~ or heck, even the headliner, tho we prefer a few years before that. I don't think there is a single person here who could testify in court that the second chip or upholstery scuff is equal to or greater than the pain of The First. C'mon! You might be angry, reasonably so, about the continual degradation into slobiness, if it's not an easy stick-on you can fix. But everyone tell the Truth: It hurts less than the first one. A LOT less. And if you let someone else have the first one, and you're a reasonably well adjusted adult, aka slob, it doesn't hurt much at all. These are the facts of science. Anyone who doesn't agree with this I would like to see in my office.
We all have pain in our lives; some of us have a lot less. And there's no need to park by the Manager and dehydrated fitzers out in the lot of Safeway, alongside a concrete lightpole-base to protect this side, and still you're a long way from the doors where if someone was stealing it you would have farther to run to get to it to pound on the roof as they zoomed by and you wish they had just run you over when you sit down to cry. On the rubber by the doors a woman twists her ankle on your spilled pineapple cans and cries out. The Manager is there now, glad it was yours, cuz his is a trick Monte Carlo.
I feel your pain, you idiot.
I'm riding with this very bright ( this is the mystery) friend of mine in an Expensive Car. It's casual Sunday, and we stop at a light and some kids there are having a car wash. Ahh, Americana. I'm daydreaming. I say, "You could get her washed."
"HA!"
I snap to attention. ""I WOULD NEVER let those kids wash this car. YOU see those sponges? BITS of gravel!!!"
Woh. Mood change. I slink in my seat and play with my door for a few miles. "Soo, you use a car wash huh?"
"No..."
"Uhm....same thing, gravel huh...... So you wash it yourself uh."
"Yah, or I pay to get it washed at a shop."
OK, that's as much as I want to know. This is getting gross now. Do I know this guy? WHAT a way to spend your time. Making appointments and driving over to Fritzdorf's.
I feel like a hypnotist, who could create a heart attack with two words: "Graveled highway." An assisted suicide, put him out of his misery.
I could go on with these words, these words of reason, but I know everyone is convinced already and I have to feign productivity sometime.
And yes, I've darn near forgotten the coincidence part, but here, see what you think: The car closest to the house in my driveway is an 87 Toyota. I put on slippers and walked out through the goop to get the bona fide actual miles, because I knew it was close, but I like to stress accuracy and honesty. Thus: 132,875 miles. It burns a teents of oil, just when it starts.
It's a Tercel, and a light silver brown they call...something. Gold or something. (Harvest Moon?). It doesn't look Gold to me, it looks Deerskin or Fawn or Fawnskin or something.
PS ~ I'll put your questions to MJ. ("Scooter")
~ Coincidents Boy |
