In your dreams

Got up this morning, and fiddle-farted around some - read a bunch of political blogs about Dick DeVos, the likely new governor of Michigan, about financial malfeasance, and about the Republicans (in the voice of CNN, Cal Thomas, Tom DeLay, Tony Snow and others) calling the Democrats who voted for Lamont in Connecticut "Al Quaeda democrats" or "in favor of terrorism."

Oh, okay. Thanks for warning us. Had a haircut at noon, then tried to work out just how it was that the Brain Trust that closes freeways intended for anyone to get from the downtown to the west side today. Seems that it was a mystery.

Got home, talked to a few people, and then was off to test drive THE CAR. We tried to find the Sugar Land CompUSA on the way, so I could buy replacement stylii for my Treo - they were the only store in the Greater Houston Metropolitan area that had the stylii for a Treo 650 - after several mis-steps, we found the store, the stylii, the cashier and .. on the way out of the parking lot, I discover that the silly thing has a built in PEN. Who knew?

Next, we were off to Stafford to look at THE CAR. It's the same car (essentially) as the one in Minneapolis, but ten thousand dollars less and 1300 miles closer. I'd been to this dealer before, in February (or something) to see a car that was similar, but black with beige leather, and many fewer miles on it.

That car (black/beige) I drove and was completely uncomfortable in. I hardly turned on the stereo. Drove it around the block. Okay, so up the street, on the freeway a minute, and back.

This one - it was dirty. Hadn't been cleaned up since the owner turned it in. Smelled of cigarette smoke. Silver with black leather. We got into it - the salesman suddenly remembered me, that I had wanted a four seat, so on - we nattered a minute. I asked if I could take it for a drive - he said sure, let me have your driver license and I'll pull it out for you.

Off we went - immediately the low fuel chime started bonging telling me that the trip was going to be SHORT. I put ten bucks of premium into it. Guy fiddled with the myriad computer settings, including the stereo which was AWESOME. I had made up a CD of different MP3 files; most of them were files Guy had sent me, starting with the "Divo car shopping music." He got a huge kick from that. The stereo was AWESOME - did I mention that? Holy cow.

Back in the car, which I had left running while I was filling it with petrol. The car was quieter than the outside ambient noise while RUNNING. No noise. No vibration. Nothing. I adjusted the seat around a bit and tried to set the seat memory to keep my settings. We pull out into traffic and stop immediately at a traffic light. I page through the user ID files (up to five drivers can have memory pre-sets for how they like their climate control, radio settings, mirror, seat, steering wheel, etc.) and the primary user ID was a naughty word. A common word for fellatio. We busted up laughing.

Light turns green. The accelerator doesn't feel like a normal car, as it's drive by wire. There is resistance, but the pushing doesn't immediately produce acceleration, as the computer is contemplating the wind speed, the last primary election vote, and the neighborhood you're in before delivering the results. In the 'hood, you get away from the light faster than you do in Sugar Land, where they expect more dignified motoring.

The car goes around the corner as if it were tethered to a post. 80 miles per hour is upon us and the car hasn't kicked above 3000 rpm. I decide to slow down a bit in a car without license plates. We get to the freeway. Screw zoom, zoom, zoom - this thing is more powerful than a 757.

Quiet? Did I mention that it's quiet? Guy was playing with the suspension settings (six) as we dashed up the on-ramp to US 59 and glass smooth pavement. Oh, did you need to get into that traffic hole over THERE? Why, sure!!

It's a 6,000 pound car that's larger than a big Mercedes and it goes like stink. Point and click and you're THERE. Think and it moves.

Off the freeway to head back to it's [temporary] home. Around the underpass u-turn. FAST. WHOOSH. I'm driving this car like I did my 1990 Grand Am HO coupe. A quick look out the right rear quarter and we beat ALL the traffic coming through the light. Hm. How's that fuel economy? 16 - not BAD.

Eucalyptus wood with near black leather and a light gray headliner. Built like a Tiger Tank, goes like a Stuka. Holy schmoly. We get back and I ask Guy to take my picture with my crappy cam phone. I tried not to look overly happy.

I walk in with the keys - the sales man is heaped onto the sofa in the office. I don't really want to give it back - but I left my checkbook at home, and I'm pretty sure (today) that the check would bounce. He says "call me with a $500 credit card deposit and we'll pull it from sale while you get your financing together."

Seems reasonable.

I'm more comfortable driving this car than I've ever been driving my Buick. The woman who hired my work for the online mortgage CE course said "Drive it like you stole it."

THAT'S what that meant.