I admit it. I'm mechanically challenged. What I know about cars is you start them with a key and stop them with breaks. One of the first cars I drove was my mother's Thunderbird. Today's cars have mechanized voices that tell you what to do. My mother's Thunderbird had dashboard lights that were meant to tell me what to do. It was a much simpler system, but a much more expensive one. It cost over $5,000 to change a burnt-out, oil light. Of course, that included the cost of replacing the engine I'd burned out.
My mother was a golf widow, so she learned to play golf. That made me a golf orphan. I tried to learn the game, but I never mustered enough enthusiasm to chase a little, white ball for four hours. Because the object of the game is very basic - getting that little, white ball into eighteen holes - the average golfer should know he's in the hole before he starts to play.
I know I over identify with my computer. I named it Steinbeck; and Steinbeck needs antibiotics for viruses, antidepressants to keep him from being down and a blanket to keep his screen from freezing. In spite of all that, his erratic behavior could mean he has ADD. I know Steinbeck has a surge protector, but I don't know if it's meant to protect him from surges in electricity or surges in my frustration.
To protect myself from telemarketers I registered both my home phone and my cell phone with the Do Not Call Registry - but I still get calls. It seems fundraisers and surveyors can still call because they're not trying to sell something. Excuse me, but aren't they trying to sell an idea they want me to buy?
These days is there anyone who doesn't worry about their luggage when they fly? My husband and I recently flew non-stop from London to Chennai, India. His luggage arrived in Chennai. Mine went to Singapore. The bad news is I had no clothes for three days. The good news is the airline gave me $100 to buy clothes. For three days my theme song was "Who's Sari Now?"
The toilet overflowed, I locked my keys in the car and Steinbeck has another virus. According to my grandmother, we should appreciate life's ups and downs. They stop when we do. That's what rest in peace means. |
