Variety, they say, is the spice of life, and I have always tried to put just the right amount of variety into the free fodder I whip up here on a regular basis (my apologies to you folks who have stomach problems; I hope it's not TOO spicy).
At any rate, to keep it interesting, I thought I'd let you all know that my wife's car is for sale. Rather, her 2002 Toyota Sequoia Limited (Summit White with Grey leather interior, fully loaded-including dual electric front seats, moonroof, seat warmers, and "SHANIQA" vanity plates), is for sale-a bargain at $17,900 (or best offer). If you're interested, you know where to find me!
The reason, though, that I tell you this (aside from the fact that it's free advertising), is that when we sell the thing, she's going to take my car (it absolutely kills me, the number of miles I've racked up in only 18 months), and I'm going to get something new.
What am I going to buy? Why, I'm glad you asked! I have, to be quite honest, a few choices. The first-and the preferred, is this car that Dad emailed me. It's currently up for auction at eBay. It is, I'll warn you in advance, a little price prohibitive, but if I can get enough for the Sequoia (and get a few of you to make some reasonably generous donations to MyndFood; c'mon-you tip your waitress at the Cracker Barrel, for goodness' sake! How about donating a few dinar to the cook here at your favorite digital restaurant?), I think I might just be able to wing it. It's a beautiful car, isn't it?
If that doesn't work out, I'll give this Prius a shot. Probably the more practical choice, seeing as how I'll not get much use out of the Maybach's reclining back seat (since I don't have a driver; donations accepted, now that I think of it, to help fund a driver). Oh-it gets slightly better fuel economy as well.
Either of them will, I think, be far preferable to most of the cars I've driven. My favorite was a brown Nissan (I can't recall the model for the life of me-some number and letter combination, I think), a 1983, I believe. The prior owner had lowered the car using a sawzall, a plasma cutter, spare lumber and some wire ties. They had, I think, neglected to replace the springs or shocks, so that it felt, driving down the road, as though the car had the suspension of a roller-blade.
And the ambitious-but mechanically challenged-prior owner had begun a comprehensive overhaul of the car's sound system. Status of that project, at the time of my purchase (to be fair, I'm ashamed to say, for the low price of $325), consisted of the removal of the stereo, all speakers, all wiring that appeared to be associated with the car stereo-as well as the removal of all upholstery from the back seat (including-I kid you not-the seats themselves). Well, actually, the padding for the seats was there, folded up in the trunk.
Needless to say, the car wasn't the greatest ride in the world. I still had plenty of people wanting to ride with me (I'm not sure, though, whether that was because of my dynamic personality, or the fact that, for some strange reason, many of the young adults that we interact with have an eerie aversion to actually getting a drivers license).
The car, alas, was short-lived. Driving back to work from lunch one summer day, I noticed a strange smell. I thought that, perhaps, my tacos were a little overdone, and I contemplated driving back to Jack-in-the-box, and giving them a piece of my mind. I decided against it; overdone tacos were preferable to even a single extra mile in that car. I pulled into the parking lot, parked, and realized that a great deal of smoke (more than was normal for the car) was coming from beneath the hood.
I jumped out, popped the hood, and realized that the engine was on fire. I looked frantically around. The only liquid in sight was my extra large Diet Coke. I hesitated, to be honest-for two reasons. First, just how much damage would it take before the insurance elected to total the car, and I'd finally get to cancel my standing Thursday appointment with the chiropractor? Second, what an utter waste of 42 precious ounces of liquid bliss!
Alas, I decided to do the right thing, and tossed my soda on the fire. I ran to the office, refilled with water, tossed that on the fire. That did the trick.
All in all, that car was probably the best investment I've ever made. The insurance company decided the thing was worth $1800! I've been looking for another one ever since.
My point: I'm not extremely picky when it comes to cars, so either of the two choices will suffice, I think. But, any help you can give in helping me to realize my dream of traveling in the inimitable comfort of a Maybach Model 62 (with reclining massage seats, refrigerated soda compartment, and individual screens for the rear passengers), would be greatly appreciated!