My Other Car Is . . .

My car, I tell people, has a sign on it saying: “This is not an abandoned vehicle.” I don’t know how the car feels about that, but it does get a laugh. Actually, and I’m sure the car knows this, there really isn’t any such sign. Nor is there a bumper sticker that reads: “My other car is even worse.”

I have a ten-year-old Cavalier (or, if you prefer the fancier French pronunciation, Ca-vah-lee-ay) that goes pretty well on flat roads, not so hot on upgrades and somewhat worse uphill with one or more passengers. In the last case, I usually turn on the four-ways and head for the breakdown lane to let horse-drawn Amish carriages pass me.

Years ago, I had a VW Karman Ghia with much the same problem. Looked great, but drove slow. After work at a radio station, I had to take a fly-over to get on the Interstate back home. I’d floor it as the entrance ramp pointed down and kept the pedal to the floor for about a mile or two until I finally reached 70mph. Never got a speeding ticket in that one.

Actually, never got a ticket in fifty years of driving. (Knock on wood.)

Everybody has a story.
Chef Tell, who was famous for his tv cooking shows and had his own PBS program, died a while back. “His German accent that some found unintelligible had been the inspiration for the Swedish Chef on ‘The Muppet Show.’” (NY Times obit.)