So Long, Farewell, Au Revoir

Originally Posted Thursday, June 19, 2014

I sold the Jeep yesterday.  A nice fellow came and gave me a bunch of money, pumped up the flat tire that is full of Fix-A-Flat, and hooked the bumper up to a tow bar.  The across the street neighbor looked like Gladys Kravitz in "Bewitched" as he drove out of his driveway craning his neck to see if what he thought he was seeing was real or just a dream, eyes bulging, lips askew like a stroke victim.  I have never sold anything before let alone a car, and I was not sure what to do.  I took the tag off the back bumper and signed the back of the title.  Is that all?  I called my insurance company and cancelled the coverage. 

As the little Jeep bumped along down the street, I said my sad farewell. 

As you an probably see from the picture, though, I had not taken care of it for years.  I can't fix things.  How does a man grow up and not know how to fix things?  I did it and can't tell you.  But it is not true.  I used to fix things.  As I've gotten older and have a little more money, I have chosen not to.  I started out being lazy and have gotten progressively more so. 

Google Maps will have to change the picture of my house now.  Thank god I had just replanted the yard when their truck came by.  Oh, yea, I thought to comment on this some time ago.  Shouldn't that be illegal? Imagine that they came by and took the picture of your house while your boyfriend or girlfriend's car was in the driveway, one your husband or wife might recognize.  One day, he or she pulls up Google Maps and BAM!  Busted.  That would be the shits. 

I went back in the house and thought about the symbol of lost youth no longer in the driveway.  The damn thing was a mess.  I could never have fixed it.  There was rust that I didn't even know was there.  The cooling system was bad.  The manifold had warped, I think.  The seats had rotted through.  The engine wouldn't idle.  It needed four expensive tires.  The electrical system was screwed. 

And just as I was thinking this, I got a text. 

"How's it look now?" he wrote.  This fellow would have the Jeep fairly mint in a few days, I reckon.  He and his boys were going to work right away.  "You're a good guy, Charlie.  Glad to have met you.  Perhaps you will sell it back to me when it is done?" I texted back knowing that was never going to happen. 

I decided to skip the gym.  It was getting late and I was tired and the air of the late afternoon/early evening was very, very lovely.  And so I picked up take out Thai, stopped to get a bottle of expensive sake, and brought it all before the television where I would eat and rent "The Grand Budapest Hotel." 

Oh, yea.  What did I do with the money?  Funny enough, I can't find it.  I am silly and stupid, but I can't remember where I put it.  I have not panicked yet, though.  I'm sure it is here.  It will turn up.