I didn’t expect my first blog after one and a half years to be this one, but here it is. Thanks to all of you who have continually asked me to reappear here. With so many requests, I was feeling as if I could blink my eyes, -queue big poof of smoke- (hey, my name is Jeannie!), and begin to entertain you all again on Monday through Friday nights at 11pm, which was approximately my old blog time spot.
Sufficed to say, those who know me best, know it’s been a
helluva ride the last year. Anyway, the blog that should have been my first,
already titled “It’s Always Something,” will come second, and the one event
today that inspired this blog, my first and the one that put the “jo” back in
my “mojo,” is first and perhaps “foremostest” for the blog…and for my life.
I had to get my car inspected today. Of course, those who know me, know that I drive a VW EOS convertible. When my son, Nathan, got his license I gave him my old 2000 Toyota RAV, which had belonged to my Dad. I inherited it, and it’s still going strong with 225000 miles on it. Too bad my Dad isn’t; though, it always makes me smile when Nathan talks about his love for a car that’s seen far better days and dotes on its “character” (a badly deteriorated driver’s seat, multiple dings, rust, and very faded and worn spare tire cover).
The Spring before Nathan went to college I bequeathed the RAV unto him, and I bought myself the VW. In hindsight, I would have been better off keeping the RAV and buying Nathan a used RAV. I decided I wanted a mid-life crisis car; and can one go through two mid-life crises in one life I ask you – like does that mean I’m going to live to be 150? Anyway, nothing says mid-life crisis like a convertible, right?
I knew I couldn’t afford the car new. I had heard that story, which I
Anyway, every morning I got into my car, my Massachusetts state inspection sticker glared at me with its “4.” It didn’t start out as a glare.
On April 1st, I got into my car and the sticker said, “Hey, just a friendly reminder. I need to be updated by month’s end. No worries.”
On April 15th, I got into my car and the sticker said, “Hi. It’s me again. I know I spoke to you on April 1st, but it’s now the 15th and I need to be updated by month’s end. You might want take that smart phone you have and put “Get car inspected” on a To Do list. Let’s make sure we dot our I’s and cross out T’s, okay?”
On April 22nd, I got into my car and the sticker said, “Jean Marie Szymczak, I need to be updated by month’s end. You ONLY have EIGHT MORE days to get your car inspected. You know, when you got that pedicure last Saturday, you could have updated me instead. Priorities? Hello?” (I knew I was in trouble when my middle name and uppercase text were used.)
Today, I got into my car and the sticker said, “Oh. My. God. If you don’t get me inspected, I’ll be illegal tomorrow!!!!!! Do you REALLY want me to be illegal?????? What will I tell MY friends and family? I can’t believe I’ve stuck to your window for the last year and you can treat me like I’m just a piece of plastic with some glue on my ass. I hate you!!!!! Well, you know, I really love you!!! But, now I really hate you!!!!!”
I was beginning to think my sticker was female and going through “mentalpause” just like me.
Iz was cough-cough sick today. I brought her to work with me where my co-workers marveled at how quiet she was. I kept saying, “Well, she’s ten going on twenty.” And she was, no lie!
Since I knew her “Oh, I will have so much fun at Mom’s work” attitude would wane after lunch, I left work early with her and decided that I needed to show my Massachusetts state inspection sticker some love instead of grumbling under my breath, “What an unbelievable crazy bitch!”
After getting the prerequisite $29 out of the ATM machine (well, $40 because you know there’s that whole multiples of $20 thingie), Iz and I headed to the garage. Of course, Iz said, “Why is it $29? Why don’t they just make it $30?” Right, really?
I had always gone to a small garage in Littleton, the town that’s next to me. They weren’t convenient, but there was something I really liked about a garage with a cafĂ© attached to it. And they were always very nice.
I parked the car in the lot. I said to Iz, “Wait here,” which was met with “How long will this take? What are they going to do? And, can I have someone sleepover this weekend?” I walked into the garage where a guy was telling the mechanic, seated in a chair behind a desk, about some mysterious blue or black smoke that was coming out of his car…in GREAT detail.
I did an internal eye roll. I saw that there was another man waiting against the wall away from the desk. As the blue-black smoke guy babbled on, I said to myself, ““Oh. My. God. If I don’t get my car inspected, I’ll be illegal tomorrow!!!!!!”
When the blue-black smoke guy left, deciding that he should leave his car on Thursday and could not leave it now, the mechanic asked, “What can I do for you?” I turned toward the Man Waiting Against the Wall and asked, “Are you all set?” He said, “I’m just here for an inspection.” I said to the mechanic, “Please put me in line behind him.”
I went back to my car to wait. The Man Waiting Against the Wall drove his car in. Iz asked again “How long will this take? What are they going to do? And, can I have someone sleepover this weekend?” I countered with, “Let’s turn up the Earth, Wind, and Fire!”
In five minutes, the mechanic backed out the Man Waiting Against the Wall’s car, and the Man Waiting Against the Wall drove off. He walked toward us and said, “I’ll drive it in for you.” Iz and I got out of the car, relinquished the keys, and walked into the garage. Iz said, “Ooooooo, it smells in here.”
The mechanic started his battery of tests. He turned on all the buttons, pressed everything he could possibly press, jacked up the car, and then looked at the back tires. When I saw him do that, I said defensively, “Oh, those are new!”
He went around to the front. I saw him checking out the front tires. He looked very seriously at the tires and then he looked up at me and said, “These are not good.” I asked, “How NOT good are they?” He said, “Like failure not good.”
Given the week, month, and year I had, I just babbled, “Uh. I need a new dryer, and now I need new tires.” I wanted to cry, because the last few months, it felt like Life only wanted a financial piece of me. I was never going to get ahead. I stopped myself from babbling further and from crying. I said, “Ok. How many days do I have to fix this?”
He went over to the inspection machine. He smiled. And then he said, “I passed you.” I said, “Thank you…so MUCH.”
I knew I would get new tires this weekend. I knew, and I think he knew, that I didn’t need the added stress of the “R” sticker…on many levels. He then said, “I’ll back it out for you.”
When he got out of the car, I said again, “Thank you so much. Hug.” I meant the “Hug” comment virtually. He said without skipping a beat, “Do you need a hug? I’ll give you a hug!” I walked toward him and we hugged. It’s was the best hug I’ve had in a while. Most people leave their mechanic in the red. I left totally in the black.
Today is what would have been my Mom’s 77th birthday. This time of year is always tough for me with her birthday, Mother’s Day, and then my birthday. It’s a day of profound loss, but, today, my mechanic gave me a profound gift. He showed me compassion and unconditional love by passing me. The important thing I am reminded of today is that the world is still full of compassionate and loving people, especially people who I might not even know. Even though my Mom’s not here, she is…in the spirit of others.
This blog is dedicated to those who blog-love me most: Brenda-SteveFinns. LisaSzy. Suze. NancyS. ♥
