As the kids were coming up no matter what their request might be I plead guilty to instantly denying that request. After a bit and some further consideration I would often modify my response to one more acceptable to both. By chance, in this morning's newspaper I saw an article about the 10 worst cars of all time. It described how the author, Jon Mark Beilue, had been the unfortunate owner of not one, but two cars on that list and had ties to two others. That article made me realize something. That is, my Frontier is not the cause for all my rantings. Not once has it failed me mechanically or otherwise. Without some untimely act, my failure to take into account the increased length of the truck on the night I brought it home, without my failure to note the state of things stacked along the garage wall, without the force of gravity dumping those paint cans, without Mrs. M***er's failure to yield the right of way or Mrs. J***s's not noticing my truck as she backed up, without those instances of happenstance my Frontier would today be entirely unsullied. Without bad luck there would have been no need for the various visits to the body shop nor the visit to the truck hospital for open heart surgery. Jon Mark's article this morning has prompted me to pause for a moment, to analyze all that I've written on the subject. It has made made see the rush to injustice I was prepared to visit upon the Frontier. On more careful consideration I see that the problem is not with the truck at all but lies solidly within my own rotten luck in the truck ownership department. So there will be no midnight car lot visits. I will not be tempted by the various rebate offers into buying another truck. To trade the Frontier for another truck would mean taking on another 2 or 3 years of payments, years of payments the money for which could surely be put to better use elsewhere. Hopefully the truck hospital will discharge it's patient into my care tomorrow and at that moment when we are at last reunited I will give my solemn vow to the Frontier to pull my head out and PAY ATTENTION! If I can exorcise the demons of my own sorry luck, if I can pay better attention to what is going on around me, if the fates do not align against my truck and me again, it is my hope that the Frontier and I will have many happy years together. Wish us both well, will you?
Sunday, March 14, 2010
I can see clearly now
As the kids were coming up no matter what their request might be I plead guilty to instantly denying that request. After a bit and some further consideration I would often modify my response to one more acceptable to both. By chance, in this morning's newspaper I saw an article about the 10 worst cars of all time. It described how the author, Jon Mark Beilue, had been the unfortunate owner of not one, but two cars on that list and had ties to two others. That article made me realize something. That is, my Frontier is not the cause for all my rantings. Not once has it failed me mechanically or otherwise. Without some untimely act, my failure to take into account the increased length of the truck on the night I brought it home, without my failure to note the state of things stacked along the garage wall, without the force of gravity dumping those paint cans, without Mrs. M***er's failure to yield the right of way or Mrs. J***s's not noticing my truck as she backed up, without those instances of happenstance my Frontier would today be entirely unsullied. Without bad luck there would have been no need for the various visits to the body shop nor the visit to the truck hospital for open heart surgery. Jon Mark's article this morning has prompted me to pause for a moment, to analyze all that I've written on the subject. It has made made see the rush to injustice I was prepared to visit upon the Frontier. On more careful consideration I see that the problem is not with the truck at all but lies solidly within my own rotten luck in the truck ownership department. So there will be no midnight car lot visits. I will not be tempted by the various rebate offers into buying another truck. To trade the Frontier for another truck would mean taking on another 2 or 3 years of payments, years of payments the money for which could surely be put to better use elsewhere. Hopefully the truck hospital will discharge it's patient into my care tomorrow and at that moment when we are at last reunited I will give my solemn vow to the Frontier to pull my head out and PAY ATTENTION! If I can exorcise the demons of my own sorry luck, if I can pay better attention to what is going on around me, if the fates do not align against my truck and me again, it is my hope that the Frontier and I will have many happy years together. Wish us both well, will you?
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