The time finally came to retire my car. I was not particularly excited about the idea. At one time, the idea of going out and picking car seemed like it might be thrilling but I must admit that I find the whole thing rather a bother. But my old Buick, a decade old, starting to rust, and having well over 100,000 miles and needing the investment "significant funds," was ready to go on to its next life.
So this is how I pick out my cars: A dealer is given the vehicular requirements and asked to call me when they have a car. This time's list consisted of this: a used car for a 6'3" person, not red and not white, 4 doors, and preferably stick shift but that's optional. A number is also listed but, of course, it's never less than I hope to spend.
There was only one other request; NO CLOTHE SEATS. I have nothing against them except that Sebastian has vindictive hair that I can only assume has something against the auto industry.
His hair drills its way into the upholstery and must have little claws that make it virtually impossible to dislodge. I've gone to stores and car cleaning places and they just shake their heads. "Get a car seat cover" they say. I did! But his hair is so insidious that floats around until it finds a bare patch of material and then weaves itself in defying removal.
So I get a phone call saying that they have found a car for me (for just slightly more than I was intending to spend.) And it is a very nice car but a little confusing to me.
So I asked if we could find something a little more simple. Just a car. Not the Swiss Army Knife of automobiles. "I'm sorry," said the dealer, "but once you have leather seats, all this pretty much comes standard."
"But I didn't say I want leather seats. I just said I wanted non-clothe seats."
"Father, there is only leather and clothe."
So here I am with a car with so many gadgets we are still at the point where I don't know how to use more things than I know how to use. My sister and cousin sat in the car during a drive to Cleveland the other day and spent the time re-adjusting the clock during the last time change.
So guess what. I am old. I finally admit it. At least I am old as far as technology is concerned. It took three priests here last week to get my ithing set up and it was supposed to be easy and intuitive. I remember my grandparents not having a phone in their house because the technology was too intrusive. HA! If they only knew.
So am I much better? This is how I remember things when I was a kid:
Pretty soon there will not be any such thing as owning devices, there will be one universal device that will do everything from showing movies, to making calls, to doing your banking, to making your orange juice in the morning. (Wait! Isn't this already happening?)
Maybe I should take up knitting.