I spent much of last weekend thinking about where I would go with the blog come Monday morning. I mean, I just finished up a week and a half of vacation, and the stories, they are a plentiful. I went to a wedding in Fort Kent on Saturday, followed by another wedding in Old Orchard Beach on Sunday. I spent a couple of nights with old friends in a house that was clearly stuck in 1972, drinking until long after bed time. I partied on the pier in OOB with a wide array of people looking on like we were crazy, what with our wedding attire on still. I spent several days in the quiet, picturesque woods at camp, getting away from everything. I heard what may be the worst best man speech ever, lasting a painful 25 minutes, where the culprit picked on both the bride and groom and made EVERYONE in the room a little uncomfortable. Our softball team came up just short in the championship game, and our soccer team won its first game, all with me playing goalie. Like I said, I have so much I could talk about, but I'm taking this in a different direction...
It's the end of an era. The Jetta and I have a long and checkered past. I bought it back in 2001 with a mere 3,000 miles on it. It was the car I always wanted. Being a raging hippy at the time, a VW was tops on my list. Because it was technically used, I got it for just a couple thousand more than anyone in their right mind would have ever spent on it. The car was great, heated leather seats, a moon roof, 6 disk cd changer, and enough pep to cruise past most other cars. I was wicked stoked to drive her off the lot. Quickly though, I started to second guess myself...
I don't think I had the car for a month yet and realized I never got a spare key. For anyone with one of those fancy new fangled cars, you know, the ones that have keys that need to be programmed, they don't come free, and they are far from cheap. After dickering with the dealer for a bit on how much it would cost me for a spare key, I paid above retail for a new pair of keys that they didn't take the damn time to program for me. I might not have ever known this if it weren't for a drunken night out on the town of Presque Isle where I was convinced I lost my keys. Turns out they were jammed in an ex's purse for a few days, just long enough for me to have to sell a kidney and have a bottle drive to raise the necessary funds for a new key. One late night I had a hankering for a hot chocolate and a Little Debbie Fudge Round so I headed down to the local 24-hour Irving in the middle of a wicked cold snap up in friendly Fort Fairfield. When I went to get back into the Jetta from a quick stop into the local ATM, the car wouldn't start. Because the dealer didn't program the key, it killed the computer, leaving my car useless, on Main Street in the middle of the night. AWESOME!
Living in Fort Fairfield was not convenient when the car needed to go to the dealer, and in the first year, that was often. If memory serves me correctly, that wonderful car was towed to Bangor at least 3 times for different things, thank god all under warranty. It was much easier to frequent the dealership in Falmouth once I moved south in 2002, and I did just that. I'll never forget the day I was washing the dishes in my old apartment in New Gloucester during an ice storm when I heard a very large tree branch snap and then hit metal. I remember the panic that came over me as I realized that it could very well be the sound of a large branch hitting my car. Oh, I was right. I giant portion of the tree that stood over the driveway landed on the roof of my car, creating many a dent and pushing my sunroof into the car, amazingly not breaking the glass. For that I got an increased auto insurance policy and I drove around a Toyota Camry for about a month.
Now, for all the bitching I just did, and believe me, I've bitched about that car for 9 years, I have to admit that I got a little emotional last night as I cleaned it up, and again this morning as I washed it for its potential sale this evening. I've had that car in my life longer than both Kerrigan and Nichole. It's seen many moves, lots of trips up and down the Interstate and a couple of tickets. Despite all the complaining she has been a pretty good car. Hell, most everything on it is new at this point, and it's only had about 2,000 miles put on it in the past 3 years. After driving it to the gas station last night I had a few thoughts about keeping it after all. But alas, the Jetta is up for sale. It's been sitting in our driveway, unused, for long enough. It's running like a champ and is going for cheap, so bring your cash and take good care of my baby. Sniffle. I'm just saying...
About Me
- Mark
- I've always wondered if people actually read this stuff. I never do when I'm on other pages. Well, in case, for some strange reason, you find it necessary, I'll give you a little knowledge. I was born in The County. For those of you who don't konw better, that would be Aroostook County. For those of you who do, your jokes won't work on me, they are lame. I'm the son of an investment banker that squandered his every penny on tuna fish sandwiches in the late 80's, and my mother was the lead singer for the Bangles. Neither of those is true, but again, I'm convinced nobody is reading this anyways. I met my wife at a carnival, and we were married by the bearded lady in front of the entire clown brigade. I have a daughter who is training for the 2012 Olympics where she will compete in the Triple Jump and Javelin. We live in a nice little shanty in the woods and are hoping to one day have running water. Any questions?
