A fine automobile engages all of the senses and inflames the emotions of the driver. A simple drive home from work unfolds as a challenge. The machine exudes an aura of mystery and provides a four wheeled ticket to adventure.
By the above definition, I recently purchased a fine automobile. It engages all of my senses as I drive. The flickering warning lights on the dash dazzle my eyes, the odor of leaking oil and rotted heater core tickle my nose. The sound buzzing from the perforated muffler buffets my ears as the cracked leather seats scratch at my thighs. I feel the heat from the sun focused through the windshield onto my sweaty skin, competing with the cool breeze pouring in the window to cool me off. My fingers ache from the cuts inflicted by sharp parts during urgent forays under the hood.
My emotions were enflamed on Sunday as, sweaty and exhausted; I wrestled with the timing belt. Again, on Monday more emotions as I mashed my fingers in the unsupported trunk lid.
A seemingly common drive home from a business dinner began with me sitting alone in the parking lot with more inflamed emotions, wondering why the engine would not turn over. Five minutes of tinkering and we were back on the road, and I felt fully liberated from the American curse of convenience. At the gas station the scene was repeated. However, I had learned the trick! A mere 10 second fix! Halfway home, blue lights approach from behind. What a night! A real adventure! The officer stepped out of his car and took several cop authority steps towards my car when it stalled. Remembering the trick required me to get out and open the hood, which I did not want to do on the interstate, I decided to restart the car. This made the cop very nervous, and he put his hand on his gun! Man oh Man, you have to try hard to subject yourself to this much adventure on a drive home in a new car! Tail light out. Electrical short. Bulb is good. Just Bought Car. The Truth. Cop gone. The car was teasing me. The next night, another dinner, scene repeated, sans stalling motor. Apparently the car likes cops, but does not want to get shot.
I purchased a mysterious machine. Why is the spare tire well full of water this morning? I swear it didn’t rain last night. Where is the third brake light? Did the previous owner leave drugs in the car? Do I really need the plastic spacer on top of the timing belt tensioner, and where did it go? It was here a minute ago.
I figured out that a one of the primary reasons for the traffic stops is that the car looks a bit ratty. The main problem in appearance was the headliner, which hung down around my neck. The moth bitten thing flapped in the breeze from the open windows, and it has become apparent to me that a flapping headliner is to a cop what a red blanket is to an angry bull.
