Sunday, November 20, 2016

I suppose I have posted it before but the nightmare came back.

I saved New York city and in the process my truck got destroyed. The mayor asked if they could do anything for ma and I asked if they could replace my Toyota truck with EXACTLY what I had lost. Or better yet, one simpler that had no air conditioning because air is a pain in the ass because you have to maintain and fix it when it dies.

My truck is a 4 cylinder, manual transmission dead simple rig with roll up windows, a radio and heater. Yes. It really is that simple.

This whole dream is probably because someone I ran into offered to buy me a drink and I was stupid enough to accept. I ordered a simple Jim Beam, neat. The fool tried to upgrade me but I cut him off. I told the bartender not to pour the Woodford Reserve the benefactor tried to upgrade me to.

He tried to argue that Woodford is a better bourbon. I agreed and pointed out that Knob Creek and Maker's Mark are also better bourbons but I don't like any of them because they are simply too polished. I like my bourbon a little on the unpolished side.

Of course, my benefactor couldn't figure it out because he equates cost with taste and I have the taste of a Phillistine when it comes to bourbon. To me it is supposed to have a certain frontier bite to it. I like Jim Beam and Evan Williams, both are basic bar well bourbons.

But let's go back to New York.

I simply wanted a basic Toyota Tacoma and the bastards upgraded me to a humongous Dodge Ram 4x4 with a gigantic V-8 and loaded.

I was supposed to recieve my truck in as a part of the mayor making some sort of speech. Instead of being happy I was kind of pissed off and my speech consisted of offering the truck as an across the board trade for a simple Toyota Tacoma with a manual transmission, a 4 banger, no air and roll up windows.

The embarrassed mayor asked me what was wrong and I told him that what was wrong is that he didn't listen or pay attention. I also pointed out that he wasn't interested in gettimg ME what I wanted to replace my ride.

HE wanted to give me what HE wanted to give me to show what a great guy he was. It had nothing to do with me. It was all about him and his political career.

What am I going to do with a truck that gets about 6 or 8 miles per gallon? How often am I going to have to maintain a 4x4 as opposed to a 2 wheel drive simple truck? I'm now going to have to learn to drive a damned shush-o-matic transmission and I HATE them. After almost 50 years of driving a manual I'll probably instinctively go for the clutch and hit the brake and send someone through the windshield.

In short I bought what I wanted because that is what I wanted. I LIKE a clutch. I LIKE having a simple machine. I LIKE having four spark plugs to replace instead of eight. It works for me.

Of course, in my dream the mayor was pretty pissed off and embarrassed but that was his problem. A dealer from upperstate NY came up with a truck that fit my bill and even offered me ten grand to sweeten the deal.

In my dream I left New York City and drove to Las Vegas. I sold the Key to the City the mayor had given me to the Gold and Silver Pawn Shop. Rick was generous. He gave me $100 for it. The Old Man had offered me $10 and a cup of coffee for it.

Chumlee had offered me a pair of sneakers in trade but Rick nixed it. The sneakers were worth $200.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

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