Friday, March 23, 2012

cars

I was obviously born generations too early. I lost my interest in cars somewhere after my father bought a Ford LTD. In high school, I had many arguments with my poor parents about getting a driver's license - I didn't want one. And failed my first driver's licence test. But then I was forced to go to driver school, so I surrendered, and on the next test, I correctly identified what the stop sign was for, and all the rest of it. After that, I had a friendly enough relationship with an old Galaxy 500,  one motorcycle, and a Chevette. The Chevette took me to Santa Fe, and then gave up the ghost. It was replaced by the most disastrous purchase I ever made, a AMC matador. That AMC was long bankrupt and that the used car dealer who sold it to me was practically wearing a sign around his neck saying "crook" did not deter me from buying this folly. However, its engine block soon cracked and that did it between me and cars. Since 1993, I've not owned a car and haven't really felt the loss. In fact, in Austin, I began to feel that you could see more of what was going on when you rode a bike - I mean, you had a sort of x ray vision of the ersatz wealth that was going into pathetically big vehicles and all the accoutrements of the out of whack credit economy. I had ecstatic visions of imperial overthrow everytime a SUV blasted its horn at me and wooshed past, spilling insults from the driver's window. I knew exactly how Jeremiah must have felt meeting the up and coming Baal businessmen on the way back from athe Fellowship Dinner and Infant Sacrifice night, hogging the chariot path into Judea.

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