I do not usually participate in the getting-to-know-you, getting-to-know-ALL-about-you exercises that make the rounds. But I did feel guilty the other day and post this one. I think it has enough 'accent' for this blog.
SINCE A FEW OF YOU ASKED:
1. I like cars.
2. All cars: old ones, new ones, in between ones.
3. I cannot get rid of my old cars. I just add to the collection occasionally.
4. In the office parking lot, the oldest, dirtiest car is always mine.
5. My cars all have clean oil, right up to the full line.
6. There are not enough spaces in my garage to park my cars.
7. There are not enough spaces in my driveway to park my cars.
8. The sum total of the worth of all my cars--if I were to sell them--would not pay for a trip to Paris.
9. Or even Orlando.
10. Maybe Gulf Shores, for a couple of days.
11. I have so many cars that I have to have two auto insurance policies since they won't all fit on one policy.
The very few cars that I have owned in the past but which I do not
currently own: I know who owns them and where they are parked.
13. I lend my cars freely for extended periods of time to those who need them. I don't ask questions.
14. My insurance agent does not know I lend my cars for extended periods to whomever asks.
15. I feel a special kinship with my mechanics.
I look for cars like my cars in movies, and when I see them, that place
in the brain that is stimulated by heroin and/or the sight of a loved
one.....well, you get the picture.
17. So far, I do not have any cars resting on blocks. So far.
18. Some of my cars are parked in the driveway of the house next door.
Actually, there is only one car currently parked in my garage, and that
car does not even belong to me, but sometimes I walk past it and use
the sleeve of my jacket to wipe off a spot.
20. Country of origin does not matter. I love all cars equally.
But I will have to admit there is something about the blended aroma of
German leather and petroleum products that is incredibly moving.
22. A car with less than 100,000 miles on the odometer is like a two-year marriage--what do you really know about it?
My father once became so angry with a car that he poured a large can of
gasoline on it and then flicked a lighted match in that direction.
24. The car did not belong to my father.
25. Other than a few anger management issues, my father was the sanest person in our family