By Pam (aka Gates) Johnson
As I’ve said to anyone who will listen, getting old is not fun. Many of those things I used to do with ease are now next to impossible. Things not impossible are now just too darned hard.
Here is an example of the unexpected difficulties I have encountered. A few weeks ago, I had an early appointment in Tacoma. No problem. Hopped in my Bronco and off I went. On my way back to the ferry, I thought it would be a good idea to stop at Safeway and pick up some groceries. It was early, so the parking lot was pretty empty.
I got my groceries, headed to the ferry … and arrived home. Went around to the passenger door and proceeded to open it. There was some resistance, then a “clunk.” Hmmm?
Tried again and got the same result. This is a reasonably new vehicle, so nothing should be “clunking.” I stepped back and saw that my fender was scratched, the quarter-panel was pushed back, and the wheel-well thingy was all scratched up. Some pin-headed twit hit my car while it was parked for ten minutes at Safeway and didn’t bother to leave a note!
Hit and run! Now starts the insurance dance. Since it was hit and run, the deductible was only $300, as opposed to over $1,000, so that was an upside. Downside was I had to get hand surgery, so couldn’t drive the Bronc to get an estimate, and had to call upon the generosity of another to drive me in. Thank you, David.
The estimate came in at around $2,300, with a week in the shop. I was just starting to use my hand and was leaving for vacation in a couple of weeks. Argh! Okay, I had to make this work, so plans were put in order. Take the Bronco in, get a rental car, wait a week (which just happened to be Festival), get my car back, and proceed with life.
I dropped my car off at the body shop and was picked up by Enterprise to get a rental. As we drove into the lot, I saw a Bronco like mine, two Toyota Tacoma pick-up trucks, a bunch of stinking minivans, and a Dodge Challenger sports car. I asked about getting the Bronco and was told the last guy who rented it took the key with him when he left and he couldn’t bring it back until tomorrow. I could come back and get it then (another ferry trip).
How about one of the Tacoma pickups? Nope. They are both already spoken for. I told the salesman I would rather walk than drive a minivan. You can see where that left me. The Challenger.
In all these many years behind a wheel, I have only had two cars, a Dodge Swinger and a Volvo sedan. Everything else has been a truck. I can get in and out of a truck easily. I can see out of a truck. I know where the front and sides of a truck are when driving and parking. My car-driving experience is limited. And they put me in a sports car.
First problem was how to get in. With a truck, you put your right foot in, hoist your butt up to the seat, and push up with your left foot. Well, I put my right foot in and tried to sit my butt down. But with my rear on the seat, I couldn’t swivel my head or bend my neck enough to get into the darned thing. I felt like an idiot.
Trying again, I stood up and thought about it. How about I put my butt in first, lean way back until my head went in, swivel my butt, and then try to get my feet in? It was an ugly process, but it worked.
I fired the Challenger up, and boy did it growl. It had a Hemi, just what an old lady needs. Made it to the ferry with no major incidents or speeding tickets, but then had another thought. The Challenger had about three inches of ground clearance. What if it was a low tide and I couldn’t get on without wrecking the bottom of the car? Crap! Luckily, the ramp wasn’t too steep, so I loaded up, again with no incidents.
As the deckhand walked by, I said sorry I was so slow, but it was a rental car. He grabbed my arm and told me to drive it like I stole it. That was the high point of my day.
I had a week with that car. Drove it to the store once. It sat in my driveway the rest of the time. You have to fill up the gas tank before you take it back, so I did that. Again, had to jack myself around getting in and out at the gas station, so once again looked like an idiot.
Never, ever hated a vehicle so much. I was so happy to have my little black Bronco, one that I could easily get in and out of, back home where it belongs.
