The Million Dollar Question

If I had a million dollars...

I would hire a chauffeur. A super extra-special, extremely practical, directionally sound, mechanically inclined chauffeur. Bonus points if he likes talk radio.

Then again, a chauffeur might take some of the variety out of life. He could effect my reputation for being the kind of person Things Happen To. And he would definitely eliminate some of my continuing education.

I've always been inclined to vehicular adventures. It dates back to my learner's permit days when my brother begged, "Let Katie drive, she's so much fun! She goes 'aah!'and then SLAMS on the brakes!" My first car was a five speed manual transmission. I used to joke about carrying medications with me when I was driving to treat my parents when they had their certainly inevitable heart attack. They didn't laugh.

By the time we moved to a metropolitan area for a short period of time two years ago, I no longer jerked and squealed my way down every road. But I had managed to acquire a new reputation. My always eloquent brother summarized it when he smilingly informed me it was fun to drive with me because he always got to see new places. This was in reference to my exceptional skill at wandering confusedly through locales far distant from those I wished to visit.

Nor have my adventures with cars ended with sudden stops or directional jumbles. In the last three years, I have driven not one but two cars down to their final moment.

Last Friday, since I haven't yet replaced my own car, I drove Paul's car comfortably to the grocery store. The startling racket it made when I tried to start it back up again and go home left me confident in deciding not to drive it home. It also left the ice-cream melting while I patiently waited for someone to come pick me up (yet again!). I have considered carrying a book with me everywhere from now on for emergency purposes...at least I'd have something to do while waiting in obscure places for kind family to come and rescue me.

I've learned, over these last few years, what a timing belt looks like. Radiator, alternator, battery, motor, clutch...one by one I've added basic information to my sketchy knowledge base. As of last Friday, I know a little bit more about starters. Slowly, in the most torturous way possible, I am becoming familiar with what a car really looks like underneath it's deceptively simple shell. Just as I am tortuously becoming familiar with Seattle and its every (single) suburb.

My lovely friends and kind acquaintances are always kind and helpful in their suggestions. At the moment, they are recommending GPS and a bicycle.

I think I'd settle, after all, for that qualified chauffeur.