Rust In Peace

My beloved yellow Bug is no more. Or, more precisely, no longer mine. I loved my Volkswagen. Loved it. I just didn't love writing all those checks to my mechanic. While I was driving through the Rockies last summer, part of the undercarriage fell off. Alarming, but apparently unnecessary for continued driving. Then, a big bubble developed in the paint on the hood and peeled off. Did I mention that I was living in the high desert and the AC was kaput? Then, on the way to a gig early one Saturday morning this winter, I hit a patch of ice on 294 and hit a concrete wall. I was fine, but it was the beginning of an extremely antagonistic process with my insurance. Multiple times, important information was "lost" by the agent handling my claim.
Well, a little over a month ago, I was on my way to meet up with an out-of-town friend on a layover in Chicago, when a Spring rainstorm turned to hail. Horrible, monsoon-like lashings of rain and hail. And I couldn't get my windshield to clear because the AC didn't work. I had to wipe the inside down with a towel I happened to have in the car, then keep the window cracked to equalize the temperature. Fuck that shit. I could tolerate the Bug's various hoopy quirks until they adversely affected my ability to drive, and brother, not being able to see is a major problem.
If you'd told me that I'd drive an SUV, I would have laughed in your face. Somehow, in my search for another Beetle, I ended up with a RAV4. It's great. I looked at the Suburu Forrester, too, but it was more car than I need. Now, I can schlepp gear without looking like the punchline to a joke, and it isn't much harder to parallel park. The AC is chilly and everything works! It still needs a couple of irreverent bumper stickers, floor mats, and maybe some fuzzy dice.
And boy, have I been schlepping lately. Full sound rigs, a mixing console the size of a yacht, a handcart, and the other sound designer I'm assisting have all made an appearance. At the end of next week, I will have three musicals running concurrently. I'll also be tired. I've been designing almost exclusively this season, which is a change of pace. Mostly assisting my pal Mikey, who shares my love of Silky Johnson and lets me take pictures of him sitting on a pink toilet at 2 am.
On the knitting front, I've picked up my hexipuffs again. They're addictive and don't involve knitting lying on my lap during the humid, hot months. The puffs are zen, since there is no real end to their project. At some undetermined point in the future, I will look at my pile of puffs and decide that there are enough of them to make a blanket. Blankets come in many sizes. then, I will spend hours arranging them in an artful "random" pattern that is anything but. And I can cheat on the puffs and not feel guilty, unlike my one sleeved cardigan.


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