Screw The Moon

One of the characteristics The Mrs. and I shared was that if we liked something a lot, we kept using it: whether it was revisiting a restaurant every other month (or more frequently), or patronizing the same four grocery stores for our supplies, or (in her case) only buying Sony electronics, whatever. If we liked a service, or place, or thing, that kept our loyalty.

That habit extended itself particularly to cars. When we lived in New Jersey, I’d brought to the relationship a VW Jetta, and as The Mrs. worked out of home, we just used the one (she and I were both huge fans of VW cars, from Beetles to Rabbits to Jettas to Passats to Kombi vans). Later on, her job required that she get her own car, so there was really no decision to be made: we went off to the VW dealer and walked around the lot. When we saw one we liked, she pointed at the blue Jetta and said to the bewildered salesman:
“We want that car. How long will it take before we can drive it away?”
“D-don’t you want to test drive it first?”
“Does it drive any differently to the green one we parked out front? No? Then there’s no need to test it, is there?”

Many years passed by, and we’d strayed a little from the VW fold because we had different needs — ergo, a Ford F-150 truck for me, a Chev Suburban for her, etc. — but when the kids grew up and got their own cars, we downsized: back to VW, this time, the weirdly-named Tiguan, which is essentially a slightly-larger Golf with a taller ride height. Then, after a few years of that, of course we got a “new” Tiguan (Carmax-new; we’d never bought new cars except Jetta #2), because the Tiggy fit our needs perfectly, so why change?

Just one little problem: the new Tiguan had a “moonroof”. Now that was fine with The Mrs.: a California girl always, she loved the openness that a moonroof brings to driving — except that, of course, she’d forgotten about Texas summers, where lizards are fried to death on the sidewalks and even a Sahara camel would go, “Enough, already.” And Texas winters, while brief, can be really cold, and rainy — which leaves about three non-consecutive weeks in the year when you can use the damn thing as intended.

Moonroofs also lower the internal dimensions of the car because of the mechanism they require, they’re just one more Thing That Can Go Wrong, and of course they add to the cost. So basically, we ended up with a feature that we used, if memory serves me, about four times in the eighteen months since its purchase.

I’m stuck with the stupid thing now: I owe more than the car’s worth, but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t get another car because I still like the Tiggy a great deal. And considering that a “career” as an Uber/Lyft driver is probably in my future anyway, the Tiguan is not the worst car to own.

Except for the useless moonroof.

Wrong Kind Of Update

When I quit blogging, I pretty much stopped going to blogs altogether, and lost touch with many old friends. So when I received a kind donation from someone with a familiar name at my GoFundMe appeal, you may imagine my shock upon reading the note attached:

Dear Kim,
When my husband (Chris, AKA Spoons of The Spoons Experience) and I visited Texas for a weekend, you and Connie insisted on our visiting you, which, as admirers of your blog, we were very excited by. You and Connie cooked us up a brunch fit for a king, then took us shooting (lending me your supercool Colt Python to try at the range!). A truly marvelous day was had by all. These are memories that now make me smile and tear up at the same time, because Chris died suddenly of a heart attack at 41 nearly four years ago. We had finally managed to accept that that we could never have children, but we had each other, and we knew we’d grow old together. But that wasn’t in the cards. What I did have, though, thank G_d, was parents who loved me and helped me, emotionally, financially, every way way they could. They still do. I can’t, *shouldn’t* forget how many blessings still remain in my life, though I’ll admit that some days it’s still hard. May G_d bless you and your family in your time of grief and hardship, and may you too come to be able to tell (or type) anecdotes from your life with your own beloved with smiles as well as a tear.
Laura

This broke my heart. I loved visiting The Spoons Experience, enjoyed his wicked sense of humor and sharp intellect, loved meeting him and his wife in person — they were such a warm and friendly couple — and to learn of his death like this was a complete smack in the face.

R.I.P.  Spoonsy; and Laura: please keep in touch, and yes,  I’ll be telling stories about Connie for the rest of my life. Smiles can come later.