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Tuesday, June 20, 2006

where's Johnny Olson when you need him?

Do you know what we got today? We got (drumroll) a NEEWW CAR!

(really I always thought the showcase with the vacation looked like more fun.)

Well, OK, it's a 34-year-old car. But -- get this -- it was owned by a little old lady who owned it from the day she bought it new in 1972 until today when she sold it to us. And I don't know if she only drove it to church on Sunday or what, but DANG did she take good care of it. This car is WAY better inside, out, and mechanically than our 1991 Buick was when it was a third the age of this classic machine. So, we're happy. Because now the aforementioned 1991 Buick can go rot in Pick And Pull (which is all it's good for now thanks to the fact that its cash value is far, far less than what it would cost to make it, you know, go down the road when you push the gas pedal -- I know, that's a lot to ask) while I drive something that goes where I need it to go. And if it should stop going where I need it to go, my husband can actually fix it**, because it isn't run by a Hal-ish computer that tells you an assortment of lies about what's wrong with its insides. Here is a picture of our new car, with C as an added bonus (really, we were heading out for a walk and I realized that there was an actual object on the premises that THE NIKON had not met yet, so I took a couple of shots before we left the driveway, to get them properly acquainted).

**I told T when we were first married and he was replacing the engine in a vehicle that it had always seemed to me that it couldn't be so simple really as hooking up the engine to make a car start working -- that even though I KNEW this wasn't true, I couldn't help thinking there almost had to be some kind of white magic hoodoo thing going on that mechanics just didn't tell us about. I felt like I was crazy telling him this until he told me he'd felt the same way for years. The moral of the story is, don't be afraid to tell people your crazy secrets. If they don't haul you away in a straitjacket*** to a nice quiet place where you can weave baskets and watch daytime TV, they might just surprise you by admitting that they're crazy too.

***You know one of my favorite Britishisms? "Strait-waistcoat". AWESOME. Thank you, Mother England.

Also today we found out that T is most likely going to have surgery on his back, being as how that's the only way he'll ever be able to live a normal life and do his job and work on his projects and stuff. (it's a good thing they can't give him a Spine of Steel that would allow him to lift transmissions with no negative repercussions, because if they could he would totally want it but you KNOW the insurance wouldn't cover that). They could continue to do 'pain management', but his discs would never just magically de-herniate themselves, and he'd still have to be so super careful to never lift anything or do anything fun, and he'd always be at serious risk for giving himself another spell of miserable couch-bound agony. So we don't know yet when the surgery will be (please oh please after our weekend in Morro Bay near the end of July) but we're pretty sure that unless God intervenes, it'll happen, and he'll be that much closer (he already has screws in his ankle courtesy of a pickup tackle football game on Thanksgiving 2002, when he broke the little poky-out bone on the inside of his ankle clean off. Yeah, ouch) to being the Bionic Man. Or else maybe the Tin Woodman.

And with that I think I'm completely out of parentheses, so I'll have to close.

Comments

Posted by: mary at June 21, 2006 05:17 AM

Posted by: dichroic at June 21, 2006 12:16 PM

Posted by: jenn at June 21, 2006 06:32 PM

Posted by: jenn at June 21, 2006 06:56 PM

Posted by: Carrie at June 21, 2006 07:19 PM

Posted by: Denise at June 21, 2006 10:33 PM

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