My Kind of Music
I went to another Honda dealer in the area this morning and test drove the Element again for the first time since I test drove one last year. I was thinking as I was driving: "this thing drives like a truck". A big metal box on wheels. The moon roof sits over the cargo area just behind the back seats. It's dark inside. The sales guy sitting beside me is telling me I can't order a 2004 from the factory because they're busy making 2005's and MSW, whom I contacted for a last minute reality check, mentioned the stereo in her new BMW wasn't all that great playing the kind of music that satisfies her tastes.
She was being more subtle than that, something, I think, about BMW's and Jeeps, but a combination of "drives like a truck", "you have to take what we have on the lot" (something my local lower priced Oakland dealer didn't mention, probably because you can) and "check the sound system before you buy" has me stumped. What am I thinking about? Who is this person I've inhabited over these ever so many years? Why haven't I noticed the, um, eccentricities of the beast?
So?
I still have two days of vacation left. I want to drive other cars, cars with leather seats and over designed shock absorbers. Right now I want to crawl into bed and think about something other than cars. I don't want to go back to work on Thursday and my blankie has been in the laundry for the last week.
You have to go back to work on Thursday. Forget cars. Buy another lens, if you have to. Buy the television set you've been complaining about buying for the last three years. Figure out what it is that's bugging you and deal with it! Please? I'm stuck inside here listening to all this.
We're both stuck inside here watching this never ending movie of film loops and cutting room rejects. And the occasional love scene and multi-colored sunset. Some say it's all too instructive, some wonder where's the projectionist, some want to know who wrote the script. I say pour another whiskey and water while they change the reel and let's hunker down for whatever happens next.
Later. It's been a crappy day for reasons that boil down to feeling tired. Not physically tired, but mentally tired. Burn out tired. Maybe it overly influenced my reaction this morning to the Element. I'm going to go by the Oakland Honda dealer tomorrow and take another drive with a good night's sleep. Why not an Element? Why not a metal box on wheels? With a spectacular sound system, of course. It needs to play my kind of music.
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