Nothing in Particular

Cash For Clunkers

Top Five Statements Heard During Cash For Clunkers Trade-Ins:

5. Yes, I realize that he's unreliable and has a lot of gas emissions, but I'm afraid we can't take the senator.

4. The car looks OK, Mr. Gambino, but can you explain the muffled screams coming from the trunk?

3. Oh. I thought "clunkers" was a new menu item at Dunkin Donuts.

2. Yes, sir, I know the name of the program sounds like a strip club featuring overweight women, but please stop waiving dollar bills at our receptionist.

1. That deal is only good at car dealerships, ma'am. The plastic surgeon won't accept your Oldsmobile.

Vehicular Text-slaughter

I just got a new cell phone that has a full Qwerty keyboard for texting. According to the stories in the media, this means that any day now I will plow my car into a shopping mall.

Chrysler: Continually Lowering Our Standards

The same day that Chrysler declared bankruptcy, I got an email from a Chrysler dealership asking if I wanted to join their sales team. Apparently their ideal employee is someone who has no idea what is going on in the world.

"What did you think of the presidential election?"

"There was an election?"

"You're hired."

(image copyright Microsoft clip art)

A Vehicle on Parole

I'm surprised that people still drive vans. Not just because of a lack of fuel economy, but because of the image they now have. "It's the new Chevy Pedophile!" I wouldn't be surprised to find out that it is the only make of car with a restraining order against it.

Go Easy on the Gas

For some reason there is no uniformity among the sounds of motorcycle engines. Some have a nice, smooth, powerful purr. However, many just sound like a water buffalo with intestinal problems. Thus, when you hear it, you don't picture an impressive road bike. Instead you think of a cow that's eaten nothing but chili. I can only imagine that guys ride those in the hopes that they can get an endorsement deal. "Does someone you know sound like this? Then tell him about Maalox."

The Short Cut

Lately I have seen a number of people jaywalk. Jaywalking is where you attempt to save a few seconds on your walk across the street by running out into traffic. Look at it as shortening your commute by simply adding the potential for vehicular manslaughter.

It's kind of like throwing yourself off the roof of a building because you did not want to wait for the elevator. There is a chance you might live. On the other hand, you might hit the pavement with enough force that you become a liquid. Either way you'll make good time.

Driven to Tears

My drive to work is usually about 45 minutes. By San Francisco Bay Area standards this is considered almost around the corner. People here drive farther just to buy a really good muffin.

When I tell locals what my commute time is I often get a look that suggests that they are impressed. Occasionally I will meet someone whose commute is only 20 minutes. This person is usually given the kind of heartfelt congratulations normally reserved for people who give birth.

An hour drive to work is not considered that extraordinary. In fact, if you complain about it, people are likely to suggest that you are not a real man, asking when you were castrated. Complaining to locals about an hour commute is like complaining to Navy SEALs that you often feel worn out after a 15 minute session with your ThighMaster.