It's my new car! Yeah right ...

(668 words)

My family is disappointed I’m not more excited about having purchased what they’re misleadingly calling my “new” car.

Setting aside the fact that one of the keys to happiness is to avoid letting the emotional reactions of others determine yours, I’m a stickler for accuracy and reject their description that my car is “new.”

“Current” is better. So is “latest.” Or “most recent.”

But a 2004 Honda Pilot with 162,413 miles is far from new. So far from new, in fact, I’m already nervous about the times I’ll drive it far from home. I’m talking Derry.

My daughters are 18 and 13. They’re not new either. I tried to give them some perspective.

“That so-called ‘new’ car is now old enough that if it were a person it could get a driver’s license and legally drive itself to the high school where it would be enrolled as a junior.”

“New? If there were a boy conceived in its backseat he today would be able to cruise for chicks who’ll join for in that same backseat for a joyful boink. Circle of life, baby.”

See, I’m not a car guy conversant in engine specs, brake projections and maximum horsepower. Car guys can talk all night about tranny performance potential.

Me, when I hear about potential tranny performances, I prepare to defend my LBGTQ sisters/brothers/others against the latest divisive Trump tweet.

My idea of a new car involves the euphoric feelings that result when George Gray says it’s a new car. Or more descriptively, when George Gray says, “It’s a new car!”

Gray is “The Price is Right” studio announcer and when he says a car is new he means it’s never been driven, it’s clean, no one’s screwed in the back seat (former host Bob Barker doesn’t count). When George Gray says it’s a new car, by God, it’s a new car.

It would be funny to see the reaction of the show’s reliably hysterical studio audience if George Gray said, “It’s a new car!” and out rolled my 2004 Honda Pilot. The reaction would be the same as if George Gray announced to 200 3rd graders on Christmas Eve, “There is no Santa Claus!”

Buying a new car should be confetti, balloons, hugs and handshakes and a happy family road trip to see how she rides.

Buying this car involved whispered assessments of used car salesman trustworthiness, prayers it will start and persistent worries the stale fart smell ain’t going no where.

Plus, I now have to decide what to do with the “old” vehicle, the one that’s three years younger than the “new” one.

I remember when it was new. It had that intoxicating aroma, the non-fart kind. The ride was quiet and smooth. The only bells and whistles it didn’t have were actual bells and whistles. 

The worst part is now being daily forced to confront the fact that I’m this far into my what-for-lack-of-a-better word must call my “career” and my only option was to buy a $2,600 “new” car I’m not sure I can trust to get me the 1.2 miles to the place I, gulp, earn my living (and spend it).

Where, oh, where did I go wrong?

It was probably in 2008 right around when the free On-Star subscription expired.

The situation has me fearful of what’s next when my new car overnight becomes old — and this is no hypothetical. It’ll be old in every sense of the word by Thursday breakfast.

It’s unlikely my earning power will increase significantly in the next 16 hours. 

The next step could be a car that runs on actual steps like the one Fred Flintstone hoofed around Bedrock.

Despite the humiliation, It could be my destiny. Really, all I need is a scooter with a decent stereo or maybe a horse that sings.

The latter might be better cause then I could talk to the car guys about real horsepower and not sound like some kind of jackass.

Related …

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Florida rental car abuse

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Standing is the new sitting

So I’m sitting here trying to think of a decent blog idea and all I can think about is how I wish I were laying here trying to think of a decent blog idea.

I’m doing this because in my mind I’m wrestling with recent news reports that said  standing has become the new sitting.

This is from Michael S. Rosenwald’s story from The Washington Post (I love the lead):

“Some people can’t stand working. Mark Ramirez works standing.

“He is not a waiter or a factory worker. He is a senior executive at AOL. Mr. Ramirez could, if he wanted, curl into a cushioned leather chair. No, thanks. He prefers to stand most of the day at a desk raised above stomach level.

“I have my knees bent, I feel totally alive,” he said. “It feels more natural to stand. I wouldn’t go back to sitting.”

Well, good for you. I guess none of us wants to be stuck one row behind guys like Mark next time we go to catch a matinee.

The story says standing at pricey gut-level desks (www.GeekDesk.com sells them for $799) is healthy, reduces drowsiness and is shown to increase life spans. It cited one fanatic who not only stands but walks a steady 1 mph on a treadmill while working at his desk.

Clearly, this endocrinologist missed his calling. He’d have made a dandy postal employee.

It’s an interesting debate, but I think I’ll sit this one out.

I learned early on stress is a killer and without fail I’m most stressed the more degrees I am removed from 180 horizontal. So my preferred postures are, in reverse order, sprint, jog, stand, sit, slouch and lay.

I’ve found the circumstance most geared to wellness is center bed, buried toes up in a quilt, while TV Land broadcasts a day-long marathon of “The Andy Griffith Show.”

If research proves that relaxing posture cures heart disease the way it cures hangovers it could replace CPR as a preferred emergency treatment.

I remember reading shortly after President George W. Bush appointed him defense secretary that Donald Rumsfeld’s true position was upright. With great foresight, he stood throughout the day for many of the reasons cited by today’s advocates.

I remember thinking: “Outstanding. What an innovative and thoughtful gent. Now, here’s a good guy to turn to if the country ever finds itself mired in a really stupid war.”

But successful standers are rare. The only two I could think of are “Price is Right” hosts Bob Barker and Drew Carey. Of course, if the tabloids are to be believed, both men spent considerable time horizontal and in the comely company of surgically enhanced women adept at gesturing toward things like skidoos.

At the other extreme is Hugh Hefner, the only man who’s made a success of his life lying down. But that job’s taken and when Hef goes he’s taking it with him.

So sitting to me is a happy middle ground.

I just can’t see standing catching on.

And how would history be altered if great leaders throughout history stood? What if Abraham Lincoln was renown for standing? How would that have altered the stunning Lincoln Memorial?

They’d need a hole in the roof.

How much more mayhem would Custer-killer Sitting Bull have wreaked had he been Standing Bull?

Would The Situation be more compelling if he was The Standuation?

It’s a lot to ponder, especially as I’m still trying to process just how Prop 19 was defeated in California.

You mean there is a deficit of pot smokers in California? The only thing I can figure is they’re all planning on casting their ballots this Saturday afternoon.

Now, there’s a group that’ll never be swayed by the standing-is-better argument.

In fact, many of the most avid pot smokers I’ve known through the years are perfectly at peace only when fully reclined.

Giving them the three options -- stand, sit, or lay -- and there’s only one eventuality.

Sit or get off the pot.