I'm not one to look a Karmic gift horse in the mouth, but I really have to ask; what market did we accidentally tap into that wanted Keith's old red Suburban?
I ask because this car (read: albatross) has been sitting - actually now listing to its left side, with two very flat tires, in one of our shared parking spaces in our neighborhood. I've been practically running into the house, trying to avoid neighbor contact upon arriving home from the grocery store. I imagine the screaming, finger-pointing stare ala Donald Southerland in Invasion of the Body Snatchers.
The Husband has an attachment to this car. This...reject from the Island of Misfit Toys, with its dented rear passenger door from a forklift mishap at work (not his doing), in a stunning shade of pink from when he paid a homeless guy to spray paint it red; so filthy you would actually have to use a knife to carve your name into the 6 month old dirt and dust.
I'd gently...at first...suggest that he donate it. And what spectacular timing, Val-Pac! The veteran's will take it, "Running or not(!) I could barely contain my excitement.
"Look, you don't even have to whip out the Yellow Pages to find them!"
The Boy: "What are Yellow Pages?"
But I digress.At the last HOA meeting, I thought (as President, no less) that I should address the elephant in the driveway, so to speak.
"I think that whoever owns that big red behemoth, should consider getting rid of it. Or a flame thrower. I'm not picky."
I basked in the laughter of our neighbors. See? I'm one of you, the people. I see your struggle. I will make this a better place. Until my gaze settled on my beloved. He was somewhat less amused.
Just that morning, he'd confided to me that he was having a hard time parting with his loyal friend. It didn't matter that there was no A/C anymore. the windows rolled down perfectly. It also didn't matter that the the driver's side door handle came off in his hand. He would just reach in through that conveniently open window to open the door.
He reminded me of how we bottomed out when we went to the nursery to pick up the sod for our new house and we loaded it all into the Big Red Suburban. And also how we over bought and were finding rolls of sod for 2 weeks, and had to give them to our gardener. How it ...and he...was so strong, that they pulled out all of the ugly builder plantings to make room for our new sod. Good times, good times.
I was sympathetic. I thought it was touching and sweet. Until I'd gone out later that afternoon to see that the front driver's tire was as flat as the rear. He was convinced someone sliced it. I wasn't sure I could disagree. But I had an alibi.
So, I'd begun to make progress. He was willing to talk about it, as long as I held his hand. The Val-Pac flier was in plain view next to where he keeps his car keys. Ready. Anytime. But then something amazing happened; a thing I never thought possible. A thing I never dared dream. One of our neighbors emailed me that she has a friend interested in, to quote her subject line, "The Dead Red Machine."
I was glad The Husband hadn't come home from work yet, so he couldn't make fun of me for gaping at my tablet with my mouth open in shock and awe.
Not only interested... but "as-is" interested. The best kind of interested. And for money!
It might have occurred to me that our neighbors all pooled money from the HOA coffers to rid themselves of the monstrosity in the interest of removing blight from our city neighborhoods. As President, I say, "Capital idea!" As slightly embarrassed co-owner, I just hope we finally got the last of the sod out of there.
_________________________________________________________________________________________Kelly lives in Gilroy with her family, and wants you to know that there are other fine offerings in the Sinon household that you might be interested in.
As-is, of course...
She can be reached at Sksinon@aol.com.
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