Balls and Walnuts
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Got into an accident today. Nothing major, no injuries, just very expensive (I’m predicting). But it’s hard to get too upset about this sort of thing — my niece’s death has become a sort of yardstick by which to measure tsuris.
As I told Jake, I take this as a wake-up call to clean up my act, vis a vis my driving. I’m rough on cars. Generally this means that I bash the car into inanimate and immovable objects in the hope that they will animate and move. They never do. I’ve snapped off the driver’s side mirror three times now, and at least half of my car’s panels have more or less serious damage. I may have passed that magical halfway point today. And indeed, I confess to the thinking, when I looked at my sorry-assed car, “Time for a new car to destroy!”
But I generally don’t bash into other people or their cars. Today was the first time. Other people bash into me, not the other way around.
Guess what I’m saying is, I need to start driving like an old lady. But not a senile and half-blind old lady. You know what I mean.
D.
You need a hat. So you can start driving like an old man with a hat.
I have been driving the minivan and you pretty much have to drive like an old man with a hat in one of those. I see people driving them like sports cars, gas pedal to the floor, and I shudder at their fuel bills.
Anyway, I am going to get a hat so that I can drive like an old man with a hat. It’s just calmer and safer and more relaxed that way.