We Drive Well-Used Cars

A while back, I got one of THOSE phone calls.  Not a telemarketing call per se, because it was from a local business I visit every few years - my car dealer.

"Hi!  This is Laura from Cars R Us.  How are you today?" 

The phrase, "How are you today," over the telephone always makes me defensive; it's meant to elicit the first of a string of positive responses.  Why yes, I'd LOVE to throw away my life savings on some swampland in Louisiana!

Because it IS a business I frequent, I didn't say what I usually do (never mind what that is) to unsolicited callers trying to sell me something, but instead, "Fine, fine, what's up?"

"Well, we've noticed you have a lot of positive equity in your 2011 vehicle." 

Wait.  What?  Positive equity?  Is she kidding?

"Hahaha!  Well, yes.  Yes I do.  It's paid off.  A couple of years ago.  Hahaha!  Positive equity - I'm sorry, but I find that really funny!"

She laughed, too, then went on with her spiel about how they need "pre-owned" (another hilarious marketing term) cars like mine because their inventory is low.  Of course the way to obtain said fabulous and desirable "pre-owned" car is to sell me a NEW one.  

Uh, no, thankyouverymuch.

When it comes to cars, our family is odd.  We buy new cars, then drive them until they don't drive no mo'!  

Back when we were first married, That Man had a small pickup truck.  He drove it for years and years.  The headliner in the cab came unstuck and he tore it out so it wouldn't sit on his head while he drove.  One of the doors rusted through, so he welded a piece of metal over the hole, then spray painted the new piece a color somewhat similar to the original.  Classy!  He finally sold it to a co-worker for $400.00 for hauling firewood on his farm.  It had over 280,000 miles on the odometer.  No, it was NOT an import.  

I had a minivan for nearly 10 years.  The only complaint I had was that the TV ads showed a slew of  hunky cowboys jumping out of it.  Imagine my disappointment when, after I drove it home, no cowboys ever appeared, hunky or otherwise.  Darn!  When we finally let it go, it had over 270,000 miles on it.  I'm pretty sure the real reason we traded my minivan instead of a different car was That Man didn't want me to break his mileage record,  I was willing to take it to 300,000.  It just needed a new parking brake cable and fuel injectors.  Poor ol' minivan.  Not an import, either.

I have a crossover now, and it's well on the way to being another high mileage USED car.  The odometer reads over 150,500 miles.  Again, not an import.

I don't really believe the dealership wants/needs THIS particular car.

I'll drive it another few years.  Maybe this time I'll sieze that record!

What's the highest mileage you've racked up on a car?  Leave a comment!

What NEXT?

These are the times that try men's souls.  And women's.

I'm currently struggling with everyday life because my right hand and wrist are in a splint following tendon repair surgery (see previous post).  I celebrated tying my shoes yesterday - yes, really, tying my shoes!  No more old lady slip-on Skecher mules for me!  Fastening the seat belt in my car is a contortionist's nightmare, but I get it done.  I still can't fix my hair, though.  There's just not enough grip to go around for the styling brush AND the blow dryer.

I'm dealing with it, and doing as much as I can.

Well.

Today, I ran a couple of errands after work, and arriving home, I decided to eat some leftover pizza.  Popped it in the oven, moved the laundry to the dryer, put the pizza on a plate, opened a can of soda, and noticed I'd BROKEN A TOOTH.

What. The. Heck.

When did it happen?  Why didn't I notice?  How could this huge chunk of enamel and dentin have sheared off without any pain?  The entire front half of the tooth is gone, exposing a metal amalgam filling top to bottom!

I noticed my missing dentition at 5:01 p.m.

The dentist's office closed at 5:00 p.m.

Of.  Course.

I called anyway, and left a message. Miracle of miracles, the receptionist called back, bless her pea-pickin' heart!  I have an appointment tomorrow.

I'm guaranteed royal treatment - I'll be getting a crown.

After the dentist, I'll mosey on over to occupational therapy for my weekly torture session.

Looking forward to a FUN day.

Not Very Handy Right Now...

A couple of weeks ago, I had surgery on my right hand.  Why?  Well, it's the aftermath of a cat bite.

Back in mid-May, I was trimming one of the cats' claws, and...RAWR!!!

She got irritated, started up her warning "siren" (which I stupidly ignored), then bit me.

Just look at that sweet face!  Surely she's not capable of such a dastardly deed.

Don't be fooled.  This is the Demon Cat from Hell.

When she came into our home as a kitten, she wasn't well socialized.  She didn't like to be touched or picked up.  She growled and yowled.  She didn't clean her fur very well.  She was Grumpy Cat times ten.  However, after YEARS of work, she can give a good imitation of being somewhat pleasant.  I can no longer sit on our sofa without her immediately taking over my lap.  Of course, it's all on HER terms.

No matter how she pretends, she is NOT a nice cat.  The other cats get out of her way.  She terrifies the dog (the BIG dog).  She sits where a gorilla would sit - wherever she wants.

Anyway, she's not a fan of being handled.  So she bit me.

HARD.

I detached her from my hand, then wrapped her up in a towel and finished the job.

She was NOT going to win.

Long story short, the bite got infected, I went to the emergency room twice, was put on pain killers and two heavy duty antibiotics, lost some movement in one finger (on my right hand), tried occupational therapy (FAIL), then had surgery that repaired two tendons.

Here's how my hand looked afterward.  My whole arm was numb until the end of the next day.  It felt like a telephone pole in its sling, and was about as useful.

I've since graduated to a different, slightly abbreviated splint and bandage.  I have to wear them 24/7 for three weeks - ugh.  At least I can sort of use my fingers.  I get to take it all off once a day and do a little gentle massage.

Meanwhile, I'm working - slowly.  I try to write left handed (oh my - barely legible) and use the computer (hunt and peck).  Getting dressed is an Olympic event.  By the time I have all my clothes on, I feel like I've competed in the decathlon.  And lost.  I'm ready to lie down and take a nap.

I keep telling myself it will be worth it in the long run.

It will.

It really will.

Right?