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Old Cars and Adult Children
Feb. 16th, 2019 09:30 amWay too early to declare “early spring,” but I must say this recent spate of sunny days and temperatures in the 40s has me hopeful.
I still need to work on my finances, but I am thinking that if I make sufficient headway, come April, I may think about purchasing a new-to-me car, probably a hybrid.
Which could make me more confident about road trips.
There are so many places I want to visit. The Gilded Mansions of Newport Beach!
For years, I attributed my increasing reluctance to drive on my eyes. I had cataracts! That’s what was making me so nervous behind the wheel.
So, I went to an optometrist.
After he was finished with all the tests, he stood there beaming at me. “For your age, you have remarkably good eyesight!” he exclaimed.
“But what about my cataracts?” I demanded.
“Well, you have mild cataracts. Everyone your age has some form of cataracts. But they’re nothing to worry about.”
Damn!
The reason I don’t like to drive has nothing to do with my eyes.
The reason I don't like to drive is because I'm a neurotic mess.
But now I’m becoming hopeful that the reason I don’t like to drive is because I drive an old car.
The little Saturn Ion will chug along forever. Mechanically speaking, it’s in terrific shape. Cockroaches will be able to drive it once humankind is extinct if they’re fitted with the right kind of prostheses.
So, I was thinking of giving the Saturn Ion to Lois Lane who does not own a car.
Until L staged an intervention. “No, Patrizia. Just no. I will not allow you to do that! It’s great that you’re so generous and all. But you can’t afford to give a car away.”
“The Blue Book value is pretty low at this point,” I said.
“Then donate it to the ASPCA,” L said. “At least that way you’ll get a tax write-off.”
###
Have not heard from either offspring in a while. (Having written that, I assume I will hear from both today!)
Am I an awful parent because I don’t miss them?
I love both kids to distraction and would cheerfully trade my life for theirs!
But motherhood for me was never a gig that came particularly naturally.
It is just very strange being this archetypal presence upon whom all sorts of deep psychological passion plays are projected.
Max’s birthday is coming up. In fact, it may fall on the very same day he is scheduled to retake the California bar.
I will be sending him a lavish gift certificate for dinner for two at the very toney Chez Panisse restaurant. In a card! With lots of “XXXOOO”s and very little other verbiage.
I still need to work on my finances, but I am thinking that if I make sufficient headway, come April, I may think about purchasing a new-to-me car, probably a hybrid.
Which could make me more confident about road trips.
There are so many places I want to visit. The Gilded Mansions of Newport Beach!
For years, I attributed my increasing reluctance to drive on my eyes. I had cataracts! That’s what was making me so nervous behind the wheel.
So, I went to an optometrist.
After he was finished with all the tests, he stood there beaming at me. “For your age, you have remarkably good eyesight!” he exclaimed.
“But what about my cataracts?” I demanded.
“Well, you have mild cataracts. Everyone your age has some form of cataracts. But they’re nothing to worry about.”
Damn!
The reason I don’t like to drive has nothing to do with my eyes.
The reason I don't like to drive is because I'm a neurotic mess.
But now I’m becoming hopeful that the reason I don’t like to drive is because I drive an old car.
The little Saturn Ion will chug along forever. Mechanically speaking, it’s in terrific shape. Cockroaches will be able to drive it once humankind is extinct if they’re fitted with the right kind of prostheses.
So, I was thinking of giving the Saturn Ion to Lois Lane who does not own a car.
Until L staged an intervention. “No, Patrizia. Just no. I will not allow you to do that! It’s great that you’re so generous and all. But you can’t afford to give a car away.”
“The Blue Book value is pretty low at this point,” I said.
“Then donate it to the ASPCA,” L said. “At least that way you’ll get a tax write-off.”
###
Have not heard from either offspring in a while. (Having written that, I assume I will hear from both today!)
Am I an awful parent because I don’t miss them?
I love both kids to distraction and would cheerfully trade my life for theirs!
But motherhood for me was never a gig that came particularly naturally.
It is just very strange being this archetypal presence upon whom all sorts of deep psychological passion plays are projected.
Max’s birthday is coming up. In fact, it may fall on the very same day he is scheduled to retake the California bar.
I will be sending him a lavish gift certificate for dinner for two at the very toney Chez Panisse restaurant. In a card! With lots of “XXXOOO”s and very little other verbiage.
