Wednesday 2 December 2015

It runs

When the weather gets too cold I travel in the luxurious comfort of a 2003 Chev Impala. I have owned this for close to a year. Other than it eating two batteries I have no complaints. My view of vehicles is pretty utilitarian. A vehicle gets you from A to B and that is all it really needs to accomplish. That and it requires a decent heater, this is Canada after all. I have taken this down back roads, forestry roads, and a few fields. It has not got stuck and it has not stranded me. Then again a man has to know his limitations. I have run the math on five separate occasions and found it gets a steady thirty miles highway to the Imperial gallon. It will feint and dart through traffic and if you punch it just right it will jerk you into your seat. The radio has started doing some goofy things but I can live with it.

I would like a truck and that will likely be next when the trusty Impala dies. The only modification I would make would be to install a gun rack. This is Alberta after all.

Taken at Buffalo, Alberta November 15, 2015

I do not wash my vehicles. I really cannot be bothered. The other reason is that when my father was alive he went through this phase that whenever I went to visit he would not be happy until he found something related to me that he could criticize. When he found something that he could make my life slightly miserable over he would be happy. To be honest I contemplated not visiting as he made some visits borderline hell. I did my best to overlook this and chalked this particular quirk up to his lousy health and the cocktail of medication he took on a daily basis. I think it contributed to or emphasized his moodiness. A lot of times he was fine. He did have his moments.

One day years ago when I dropped in on my parents for the weekend my car was particularly filthy on the outside. Upon seeing this my father starting harrassing me about it. This was a revelation, instead of him searching for and bothering me about multiple things this instantly gave him one, and only one, thing to focus on for the visit. This was something that he could latch onto right away. So I made a point that any time I went home the car was noticeably dirty. He never bothered to bring up any other perceived shortcomings, this was enough to satisfy him. Visits were much better once he found something to latch onto.

One particular summer visit he got up early in the morning when I was asleep and swiped my keys and drove my car to the local car wash and cleaned it. He claimed it irritated him so much he could not stand to look at it. This was some kind of moral victory for him. Personally I looked at it as getting a free car wash. This did not mean that I stopped. At this point I needed to see how far I could take this.

He has been gone now for close to twenty years and I still do not wash my vehicle. I figure it gives him something to occupy his time in the afterlife.


  1. LOL. She's an hones ride BW!

    Do you have kids?

    1. No. Wanted them. Ended up with none. Such is life. I am single and pretty much bereft of responsibilities.

  2. people can be funny about some stuff.
    I used to leave my underwear on the bathroom floor so my (now ex) wife would have a "lightning rod" for her temper.

  3. It was probably the meds he was on. My Dad focused on his tools. God forbid if I didn't return one clean and shiny to it's 'proper' place! ( I bet a dirty car brings a smile to your face....)