Every couple of weeks, the group will be issued a
"challenge entry". The site will post a excerpt from the challenge entries, as
well as the link to the complete entry found on the journaller's own journal site.
IF WISHES WERE HORSES
December 3, 2000
There seems to be a growing phenomenon among some journalers, and that is letting their friends, relatives, and fans know they have established a wish list to help in the selection of gifts for Christmas. Not to be left out, I too have a Wish List at Amazon.com in case there is anybody who is dying to buy me a gift for Christmas or my upcoming birthday. Feels kind of crass and materialistic to do so, but Ive discovered that its kind of fun to look over other peoples wish lists. It kind of gives you an insight into their personality from looking at the things theyve added to their list.
There are people who will get a huge belly laugh from discovering that Ive added Talking Dirty With the Queen of Clean to my list. Me? A book on cleaning?? But probably nobody will wonder why Ive also added Bill Brysons In a Sunburned Country.
What I want for Christmas lists have always been difficult for me. In truth, Im pretty content with the material things I have now. Ive never been a person who has to have the biggest... newest... best... whatever. I dont go in for a lot of gadgets and am slow to replace old things with new (people who are still waiting for me to completely convert from the old to the new computer will be happy to agree!).
I get such use out of my old things that I was surprised to discover that in the Smithsonian Museum of American History there is a display of kinds of Tupperware, which I am currently still using here in my own house.
It was a huge trauma to consider replacing our 1987 Toyota Camry a couple of years ago. I knew the time was coming when we had to consider a new car, but the old Camry and I had bonded for years. It had served us long and well. It was comfortable. And I was going to be very sad when we went off in search of a new car. We never had to deal with the when question. One night we were going to a movie in San Francisco, decided to take the BART train in, parked our car in a lovely suburb of San Francisco, went to the movie, and when we got back to the parking lot, the car had been stolen.
Other than the violation you feel when you think of somebody manhandling your baby, we had to go out and search for a new car when I wasnt quite mentally prepared to have a new one yet. I let Walt make the decision. I was still grieving the old car. Just go and pick something, I said. I dont really care. He came home and asked me to come and help him decide between two different cars. Reluctantly, I went along. What did it matter? As long as it had wheels, a tape player, and air conditioning, I didnt care at all.
When we bought our first car, after moving here, I magnanimously said it didnt matter if we had air conditioning or not. We had moved from the San Francisco area to the inland valley and we were buying the car in the winter time. I knew it got hot here, but for the cost of air conditioning, I could ride around with windows open. And then I experienced a summer of valley heat and those fun triple digit days. When it came time to buy the next car, I told Walt, "I will go through menopause in this car. I. want. air. conditioning." We managed to find the Camry and the rest was history. It was the lots loss leader. It had 70,000 miles on it, but we knew from driving our old Corolla that Toyotas handled lots of miles without problem. And so we bought it. At the time it was stolen, it was registering nearly 300,000 miles and still going strong, though starting to let us know that it was going to be time soon for some major work. The car thieves probably did us a favor by stealing it.
Walt had found another Camry which would do just fine. But he had also picked out a Honda Accord as well. We test drove the Camry. It was ok. Not as plush as the old one, but it would do, and I really didnt care about all the frou frou on the Honda. This is fine, I said. Lets take it. Well, lets just try the Honda, he suggested. I got into the plush leather seats. Hmmmm...this was rather nice. Then the salesman pointed out that there was a 6 CD changer in the trunk. Ohhh...even nicer. It ran well. The engine had a bit more oomph than the Camry did. Walt did the obligatory thing like looking at the motor. Yes. It looks all there. Silver is a very nice color for a motor (what do guys do when they stand around an open hood and look at a motor?)
In the end, we decided that we would buy the Honda. It took a few days before it began to feel right, but now I love it. I hate to sound like a girl, but it really was the CD player that completed the bonding process. Yeah, its nice when I hit the gas going up a hill and it doesnt respond like a wheezing old man. But getting into the car in Davis, starting with Lawsuit and wending my way through John Denver, Steve, and whatever else I decide to put into slots 4, 5, and 6 takes me all the way to Los Angeles without really being aware of the miles passing by. And thats certainly worth the price of the car right there.
This journal entry was going to be about materialistic things, the
magic of Christmas, and a bunch of other stuff. I certainly never intended to get off on
car-buying experiences. But I like my little car. And its just about a year since
the Camry was stolen and we had to go hunting for the Honda (if youre going to steal
someones car, be sure to do it right before Christmas. Its so much more in
keeping with the spirit of the season, dont you think? Especially if you can make it
the same year that the victims kid also died. Might as well really make sure
to make the year memorable.)
|created 11/28/00 by Bev Sykes|