Nov 13 2011

I thought I was going blind. They say you start losing your night vision as you become ancient, and since I am fast approaching that definition, I figured that must be what was happening. When ya can’t see where you are going, it can be a bit disconcerting.

Where we were going was east on the New York State Thruway. We managed to catch the tail end of the evening commute, and the locals who knew where they were going were going there rapidly. Apparently, those speed limit signs on the shoulder are just for decoration, kinda like they are around here, and to stay in line I disregarded the traffic law and adopted the law of the jungle. So we motored on, in the dark, in the rain and the spray, in the traffic, at extra legal speed, and I couldn’t see squat. I couldn’t see the lane markers. I couldn’t see the shoulders. I set my sights on a pair of taillights and kept my foot in the throttle. It was an act of faith that I did not enjoy.

My blindness under these circumstances confused and annoyed me. Other folks seemed to see well enough to power through the darkness without care. Couldn’t understand what was wrong with me. Finally panic took over from where common sense had left off, and I pulled off the road for the night. And I concluded that I was simply too old for this nonsense any more.

Then two nights later I turned on the headlights while parked behind another car. And only half of that car lit up. Duh! The Jetta was a perdiddle. In case you don’t remember, a perdiddle is a car with one headlight burned out. And we was one. No wonder I couldn’t see in the dark. The Jetta needed a new headlight.

So I was sitting in the Volkswagen dealer in Springfield, Massachusetts making a cup of coffee in that little sitting area where they park the waiting folks, and thinking to myself that I needed to buy one of those coffee makers like they had, onnacountof how well it worked, and I looked to my left and there sat the new cars. I think they do that on purpose. Because right then and there a seed was planted. So while they changed out my old Jetta’s oil and put in a new headlight, I checked out the new models.

Once we arrived home, I wore out the internet looking at cars, and comparing features, and memorizing things like 140 horsepower and 236 foot pounds of torque, with EPA rating of 30/42. Then I put it all on the shelf, cause we really didn’t NEED a new car, and despite rumors to the contrary, I am a practical kinda guy.

During the drive to Boston, by the time we were cruising across North Dakota, we had realized that the nimble little Jetta had some advantages over the big diesel pickup truck on road trips, so long as said trips didn’t involve pulling the trailer. It was quieter, rode out the bumps better, and burned far less fuel. And we had amazed ourselves with how much stuff we had crammed into the back of that thing with the backseat folded down. So we added the possibility of touring with a small car after we retired, figuring on picking up something like the diesel Jetta sportwagen when the old Jetta died, so we’d even have room for the kayak and some camping gear for those times when we didn’t want to haul the trailer. It fit in well with the other dreams we hold for retirement time.

 Anyway, after taking our first two week vacation in over 14 years, and enjoying just how good that felt, we showed up back at the clinic to face the crush of catching up, the whining from those who couldn’t let us off the hook for slacking off when they needed us, the quiet resignation that we had years of six day/ 55 hour weeks to weather before we could even consider trying to retire, and the realization of all that settled around our shoulders with the subtlety of a 50 pound pigeon turd dropped from above. So rather than dutifully waiting patiently to grow old and die, we began discussing the possibility of having some fun before that happened.

Last Sunday we took the new Jetta for a nice long scenic drive to see a site that had been on the list of places to visit for decades. And it was wonderful! The weather cooperated with intermittent showers, cloud shows, cool weather, rainbows, and sunbeams highlighting the hills and valleys. Pinnacles National Monument lived up to its billing as a sparsely visited, well preserved, teaming with wildlife, and populated by rock spires and chaparral lit by fall color kind of place.

Did I mention that we bought a new car? Well, we did. We went for the sedan rather than the sportwagen, to enjoy a more nimble feel. We sprang for the turbo diesel for longevity and way better fuel economy. With the six speed manual transmission, satellite radio and GPS. And it rocks!

The way we figure it, the new Jetta will be nearly paid off by the time we might retire. So my practical side can sorta explain away this endulgence. The little diesel purred along at over 40 miles per gallon on this tour, which should improve after we get her broken in. And we are laying plans to actually take off a weekend every month and go do fun stuff, rather than just talking about doing this. And sometimes we will take the trailer, and sometimes we will fly low and fast in the new Jetta. We’ll see ya when we get back.