Number 54

I love my car.

I drive a 2002 Volkswagen New Beetle, TDI. Fire-engine red, black interior. Bought it new back in November of '02. TDI stands for Turbo Diesel Injection.

Yep, it's a Diesel. 50 miles to the gallon - I kid you not! That's what really sold me on the diesel vs gas. Well that, and the maintenance. Did you know that diesel engines have fewer moving parts, and that leads to easier, less expensive tune-ups? I didn't. But that means every time one of my co workers takes his car in for a tune up, he's paying $300.00 to my $124.00.

Anyway . . . There I am, happily owning my little diesel beetle, smiling all the way to the gas station and mechanic shop, when along comes my 75k oil change. After paying my $54.00 bill for the oil change and looksee, the nice man behind the counter says: Okay, your next visit should be at 80,000 miles, and that's the Big Tune Up, usually comes to around $981.00.

WTF?!

$981.00 ?

Yeppers. They replace the timing belts. Seems that requires practically lifting the engine out of the car (or so the man said to the blonde woman)

981.00 Goram dollars for a tune up!

So I smiled, said "Thanks." Took my receipt and the little "reminder" estimate, and drove home in a dazed fog. With my commute, it'll take me a mere 3 months to go from 75k to 80. Then my little brain starts turning, thinking "maybe it's time for a trade-in?" I'd already decided next summer I was going to trade this baby in for a brand-spanking new one. I want leather seats, like my sister's beetle, and a sunroof (like hers) and the new red color is really something.

Salsa Red, they call it.

Ignoring the difference between a $981.00 tune up and a $23,750 new car, I happily drive home and look up my favorite VW dealership to see what they have on the lot. Well, no red, and no diesel. So I send in an email, listing exactly what I want, and a little while later I get this phone call.

"Would you be interested in a Jetta?"

"No, I want a Beetle. And it has to be diesel."

"How about a Passat? I have three on the lot right now with black leather."

"Thanks, but I want a Beetle. New, salsa red, black leather, and diesel."

"Okay. I have three red Jettas, one of them is diesel."

One of us isn't listening.

"Beetle," I repeated slowly. "New. Red. Diesel."

"Okay, we have no diesels in the '07 anymore. No one in the state does. But I can put you down for an '08. They're coming out with more horsepower than the '07, certified 55 mpg and cleared for use in all 50 states."

"Sounds perfect, put me down."

"Okay, we're expecting them in April."

"April?"

"Yep, that's the earliest."

Friggin APRIL ! Which means I'll have to pay that $981.00 tune up anyway. Which means, sure, I'll probably get that back in the trade in value. And yes, it does sound stupid to avoid a tune up cost by buying a new car . . . but sheesh. I'd talked myself in to this brand spanking new-car smell idea, and now I have to WAIT.

I hate waiting.

I'm not a patient person.

The publishing world is all about waiting. My rock-tumbling hobby is all about waiting. Sometimes it seems my entire LIFE is all about waiting ! I spent 30 minutes last night at Group Health in the pharmacy waiting, holding that little number in my hand, watching all the windows, waiting for my number to finally light up above one of them.

I couldn't help thinking this is what Life is. You sit here, holding your number, and the instant that little red light flashes from the number before you, to yours, one of those giant ACME anvils will drop from the sky and squish you before you can get out of your seat.

Number 53. Is there a Number 53?



Number 54.