Under the Wire

You have no doubt noticed that I write about the funny things that happen to me. It’s easy to do because I don’t have to make anything up and who would know more about it than me? I was there. Every once in a while, something happens that may be funny to the world but I find it embarrassing, annoying or down right infuriating. Those events take time before they get funny for me. The following event, as close friends and neighbors will quickly recognize, took place several years ago. It has taken this long for it to seem humorous to me.

Recently I went to get in my very faithful and reliable dually (1996 Dodge). Like hundreds, no make that thousands of times before, it started right up. After a sufficient warmup, I put it into reverse to back out of the garage. Up until then nothing unusual had happened. Then something unusual did happen ... nothing. That’s right absolutely nothing. Pickup just sat there refusing to go to work that day. While I have those thoughts myself quite often, for the Dodge to try this was totally un-acceptable. However, refuse it did. It’s reluctance to move was soon diagnosed as an automatic transmission that no longer automatically did anything.

From that instant through the next two weeks or more, I was plagued with “pickup on the brain.” Sue says I, like most guys, have a “psychotically one-track mind.” I prefer to say we are “focused.”

Readers both male and female will recognize the rest of the events that followed the fateful morning of “no motion.” Male readers will recognize and understand my thoughts. The ladies, well, let’s just say they’ll recognize the thought process and leave off the understand part.

My undying loyalty to the one ton extended cab, clean as a new one ... died on my walk to the telephone to seek relief. The first call I made was to the repair shop to come get my fast fading friend and fix it. The second was to the bank to see how they’d like to buy me a new pickup and/or pay to fix the old one! My good friend the banker, there’s no way I’m saying anything bad about him today, said OK.

I then entered phase two of the process known as “looking around.” Now, guys are always lookin’ around” at, pickups of course, but looking and drooling is different from “really gonna do it.” It is scary to say the least. I could fill this entire page with car salesmen stories and events I encountered. Once I get over being plain mad at some of them, they’ll probably become funny stories. Some will take longer to become funny than others. At least one future column will deal with my newly developed theory of the bigger the showroom, the more “horse pucky” you’ll encounter.

Somewhere along the way I debated the old question, “Should I spend $2,000 to fix my old ride or $35,000 on a new one. Of course, being way too smart to fall for that one, I did both. That way I spent $37,000! At that point I became the proud (?) owner of not one but two pickups. I hope you understand why I just had to write about the only thing on my mind at the time.

I’m thinking of starting a support group for similarly thought impaired men. The group would also be useful as potential buyers for a really nice, if you don’t count the dents, Dodge pickup with a brand new transmission. I could have used such a group at the time. It turns out, I’m a pretty poor used car salesman. That too, took time to become funny for me. You guys know what I mean, don’t you?