So hey, I have a new (to me) car! Not the biggest news in the world, I'll admit that, but big news in my world I can tell you. It's another Cavalier and is some 12 years old, but for just a hundred and fifty quid (that means UK pounds in case you don't know), it was a bargain.
No money actually changed hands in this case though. The car was part of a debt pay off and the MOT test plus the welding needed to get it through that, was paid for by me offering to design the garages website for free. Sounds like a dodgy deal, but in actual fact, this car is the most un-dodgy vehicle I have ever owned.
It's got anti lock braking, power steering, fuel injection, central locking, a sun roof, electrical heated and operated mirrors and best of all... electric windows! I have never had a car with electric windows before! Perhaps the fact that I am so excited about having a car with electric windows will demonstrate just how bad all my previous vehicles were. Even the last car I had (which by my standards was considered as sensible), had the annoying habit of filling the passenger side foot well with water when it rained. But not my new car. No, this new car is actually pretty darn posh for me!
Perhaps though, it is about time I had a sensible car though. A four
door hatchback with electric windows is surely what all sensible folk
my age should be driving. I could fit my kids, my wife, our dog and
the in laws in this car at a push! However there is one small thing
lacking from my new found sensibleness.... that would be the statutory
kids, wife, dog and in laws. Somehow I have managed to stave them
off up to this point, but maybe the worm has turned? Maybe the sensible
blue car with electric windows is the landmark that will hail an all
new sensible period in the life of Simon Jones. After all I am 30
I suppose now I have the sensible car I should consider getting a sensible house. Maybe a nice new home with a postage stamp garden and squeaky clean professional neighbours that I'd never get to know. My stereo needs replacing, so maybe I should go down to the local Dixons or Curry's and ask some spotty 16 year old assistant for a new 'music centre'. I could request one that only goes up to five on the volume as ten is just not responsible or required for a gentleman my age. I could go to Borders and by a Crosby Stills Nash and Young CD to play on Sunday afternoons just before I lapse into a podgy sleep on a sensible new couch.
Of course radio habits will have to be changed to. No more listening to WFNX or KROQ over the internet. No more Radio 1 and the 'essential selection'. No, I should find a nice easy listening station where they have 'presenters' rather than 'DJ's' and where Elton John and Phil Collins are still played openly and without ridicule.
Trips to GAP will be replaced by trips to Marks and Spencers or British Home Stores and Sundays will no longer be for recovering from the antics of a Saturday night, no sir! Now Sundays will be reserved for outings to the garden centre and DIY hardware store.
Of course I am forgetting a must have accessory for a middle aged
man in the UK. I need a wife and small child. As I see it this is
the most disturbing of all life's little 'upgrades'. She would have
been once a slim stunner who was incredible in bed. But once you're
hitched she's a slightly overweight Mom who now just snores in bed!
Something that you would probably find upsetting if you weren't so
tired from looking after the small child you had to 'make your lives
complete' a few years ago.
Is becoming more sensible and mature really something I want to do? From the sounds of it maybe not. Maybe I'll get there one day, but I can't help feeling that sensible is just a word that someone dreamed up when boring became over used.
I should point out that the whole 'married with children' lifestyle is not something I am looking down on in anyway as a lifestyle choice, it is just not for me at this stage of my life. Maybe one day I'll get there, but not right now.
There is something to save me though. The new car has a dodgy hinge on the passenger door than means passengers are required to slam it closed. I was going to fix that, but perhaps doing that would just be one step too close to a life of BBC Radio 2 and Sunday afternoons pretending to be asleep on the couch.
[ Footnote: It's also worth noting that the blue Cavalier expired some nine months later with a terminal problem in Kent, something like 400 miles from home. Like nearly all my cars, the Cav ended its life on the road with me before going to the scrap yard to have its good bits harvested by men with dirty hands.]