My buddy finally sold his old run-down Jeep. I am just like him, unable to sell things. Instead, the remnants of my life accumulate around me and become increasingly burdensome.
He has not yet offered to split the money with me. He claims to have already lost it.
First he cut his hippy hair, now this. My lit teacher is finally growing up.
He bought the Jeep right about the time that we met, in 1984. It has sat nearly dormant in front of his house for the last 10 years or more. He claims that it runs but I used it once when I was in town. It runs as long as you don't come to a stop, then it stalls unless you gun the engine rather than trying to let it idle.
It was like driving a failed nation. The infrastructure had begun its irreversible collapse. It felt like the future and the past all at once.
I went and looked for a new car briefly this last week. There was a used Jeep that caught my eye. It was black and in pretty good shape. I could afford it but it seemed like it offered an even less pleasant process for getting Rhys into and out of it than my current car, a Volkswagen Bug.
California requires that you keep children in car seats until they are 25 years old and at least 215 pounds.
Where will the strength for such a thing come from? The future?
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