Waffle's Threat

Newsletter 2019-05-20

My wife and I view cars in fundamentally different ways. Lola thinks of them as imperfect machines whose shortcomings must be aggressively monitored and repaired, usually at great expense to our budget. Every time she asks, “Did you hear that?” it costs us at least $500 with some mechanic, guaranteed. I, on the other hand, view cars as magical vroom vroom boxes that get me where I need to go as       long as I just look straight ahead and don’t ask any questions. I ignore any sound I can drown out by turning up the radio or screaming. Sometimes it takes both. I'm willing to drive a vehicle until it starts on fire, and even then I’d probably keep going as long as the fire was just on the outside and the air conditioner still worked. With cars, as with everything else in life, the lower your standards are, the easier your life will be.

But this week, my minivan failed to meet even my unexacting standards. I barely made it out of my parking spot in front of my house before I had to stop. …