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Tuesday, July 19, 2011

My Rust Bucket List

So, there's this blog I don't read called "The Polish Magician". My wife has a Wordpress blog, (it's called SLiPs of the Tongue and you should go there) and, last night she was doing some edits to her blog, and, on the Wordpress website, "The Polish Magician" was one of the featured blogs or something, and the title of the author's most recent post caught my eye:

"My Rust Bucket List"

"Click on that," I blurted out to my wife, who, in turn, gave me a look-of-death. But, she dutifully clicked on the link.

See, I got all excited because, underneath the clever title I saw a picture of a 1971 Plymouth Valiant and that sort of turned me on. Pickle-tickled, if you will.

However, I was soon flaccillated.

The post was just about cars he's owned since his first car, the 1971 Valiant. And, frankly, none of the cars are anywhere near as interesting as the Valiant, and I think the Polish Magician would be inclined to agree with me. He's owned a

1971 Plymouth Valiant
1972 Datsun 240Z
2002 Toyota 4-Runner (way to rapidly enter the 21st century, pal)
1992 BMW 316 (who the fuck came up with the numbering system for BMW? 316? What the fuck does that even mean?)
And a 2004 Mazda 6 wagon. In foamy mint green. It looks like a Tic-Tac with wheels.

Now, no offense, Mr. Polish Magician, but my list of cars that I've owned in my relatively young life kicks your list in the crazy-go-nads.

1966 Volkswagen Beetle
1990 Ford Crown Victoria, LTD - retired Delaware State Police car
1989 Volvo 240 DL
1994 Ford Taurus
1997 Ford Crown Victoria LX
2001 Chevrolet Impala
2001 Volkswagen New Beetle (done up as Herbie the Love Bug)
2005 Ford Focus SE
2001 Chrysler PT Cruiser, Limited Edition
2002 Volvo S-40, 1.9 Turbo

So, yeah, my list can beat up your list-- but we're not even going to go there. Even though we should.

(COOL CAR LIST THROW DOWN TIME!!!)

What I really wanted to say was that the reason I got all funny in the trousers about the Polish Magician's blog was because I thought it was going to be something that it was not. I thought, as the title, frankly, implied, that it was going to be a list of all of the fucking awesome-tots cars this guy wanted to drive before he died.

Drive... or own.

Can you imagine? Having a list of rust-bucket shitheaps that you want to have for your own, for a time-- maybe a month, then sell, scrap, auction, or donate to public radio before then moving on to the next cum-wagon? How amazing would that be? I mean, sure, you'd have to be reasonably comfortably well-off to pull off a stunt like that, and you'd have to be basically single, because what normal wife would put up with a 1976 Checker Marathon parked out front in October, only to have it replaced with a 1981 Dodge St. Regis in November.

I mean, my wife would cut off my balls and insert them, forcibly, into each of my eye-sockets. And that would appreciably interfere with my ability to pilot either a Checker Marathon or a Dodge St. Regis.

But what a wonderful idea for a blog. To drive an shitty, antique (or at least vintage) car for a month, form an attachment, get frustrated, go broke, patch it together, have a road-trip or two with a friend or a lover or a dog, and then get rid of it and move on to the next one. You could do it for a year, and write about it, and score one whore-fuck of a book deal-- no doubt. It sounds like it would be the perfect project for someone crazy about cars, and writing.

Someone who's, well, crazy. I don't have to say that I think there'd be little competition against me for the honor of Most Worthy of the Rust Bucket List.

I thought, though, that I would put the Rust Bucket List idea out there for a man more adventuresome, more worldly, more money-laden than myself. You don't have to pay me a finder's fee, or royalties-- just take my idea and run-- no, no-- drive with it. Just promise me you'll appreciate the butter-smooth click of the column shift lever as you put it into D. Just promise me you'll lovingly inhale the glorious odors emanating from the sun-dappled vinyl bench seat. Just promise me you'll diligently put in that lead additive when fueling up. Just promise me you'll include at least one antique Beetle in your Rust Bucket List.

And promise that you'll swing by, just once, to take me for a joyride.

2 comments:

  1. The proverbial German phenomenon of the verb-at-the-end about which droll tales of absentminded professors who would begin a sentence, ramble on for an entire lecture, and then finish up by rattling off a string of verbs by which their audience, for whom the stack had long since lost its coherence, would be totally nonplussed, are told, is an excellent example of linguistic recursion.

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