But let me update you.
No post would be complete without News of the Car. We're proudly riding with our almost brand new (looking) right side. Yes, a number of thousands of dollars later, we were free of unsightly dents, which went right up the entire right side of the car. Not to mention our fourth or fifth passenger side mirror.
I was really proud of the end result. Several of my coworkers came up to me, unsolicited, to let me know how great the car looked. You know where I'm going with this, right?
Two days later, the wife calls me at work. "I spun 360 degrees because this Philly piece of dung, no doubt without insurance, ran a red light and came withing inches of the car." [Note: it is stated that over fifty percent of Philly drivers have no insurance]. One of the earlier accidents involved Church People who said they'd pray for us. It turns out that they were using their dead mother's insurance card and the insurance had lapsed because they hadn't paid the premiums.
Over the weekend I got another call. It's getting to the point that I'm afraid to take calls from the wife. This time it was a pothole. Apparently it had swallowed a few businesses and it took out one of the horribly expensive performance tires (on our Hyundai). Off to Pep Boys after triple A arrived to change to the donut.
Pep Boys, ever the accomodating enterprise, informed her that it would be three and a half hours, minimum, to replace the tire. The fellow advised her to come back the following morning, scheduling an appointment at ten.
So the following morning (Easter, mind you), she showed up at ten in the morning and found people lined up all over the place. She went to claim her ten o'clock appointment, only to discover that the previous evening's employee wrote nothing down, including the alleged appointment and wasn't in all day, as is customary.
So I got another call. I wonder if somehow I stop accepting her calls, flats will stop happening.
Eventually they get to her. I can't stress highly enough that you purchase the optional tire insurance for your tires (especially the performance tires, which are as rugged as tissues). The total price was thirty bucks.
Whilst replacing the tire with the huge performance hole in it, the technician discovered another tire, which apparently had a performance bubble in it. A second thirty bucks well spent. And it's much better to learn of a tire bubble on a lifter than on a road (at the speed limit, of course).
If anybody knows a shaman or voodoo priest who takes the whammy off cars, please refer them to me.
For some reason known only to my wife, Closed Captioning is enabled on our television. It's not really a problem unless we want to see something on the bottom of the screen.
So she's watching some horrid old movie, as is customary. There's a Jewish wedding happening and the father is talking to the bride, telling her how proud he is and how she has always brought him naches. Naches is a Yiddish word, meaning joy or blessings,pride especially from ones children, grandchildren.
The people who do Closed Captioning apparently don't see much Yiddish, as what came onscreen was 'You have brought me knockers.'
Dad must've been really proud.