I’m back! Three years after finishing my initial stint with Rocky View Publishing, I’m back for round two.
Three years is a long time, so it’s okay if you don’t remember me. I understand. Let me give you a quick run-down of the need-to-knows.
When I was eight, I played on a peewee baseball team. We were the worst team in the league. I couldn’t hit the ball, so I bunted at every at-bat. This was not a winning strategy.
With a league-worst record, I left with my family on a summer vacation. When I returned, I discovered that my baseball team had gone on to win the championship. The causation of this remains a mystery to me.
That’s probably the most important thing you need to know about me.
Aside from that, I’m an import from rural Swift Current, Sask., home of the world’s best (and only?) combination trophy-vacuum-instrument store. In case you ever needed to get all three at once.
I’ve lived the past eight years down Highway 2 in Calgary, Alta. I’m in that strange transitory phase between student and professional life, in that I still live with roommates but am beginning to question why. Love the low rent; love less waking up to find strangers sleeping on the couch.
Along with three other college-age(ish) roommates, I rent a house in the suburbs of Calgary. We’re the odd house on the block, surrounded by young families and retired couples.
I think our neighbours feel bad for us – occasionally, they’ll invite me over for apple pie and coffee. I know. I’m living the dream.
Three years ago, I drove to work in Airdrie every day in a sputtering, straining, hardly road-worthy 2000 Ford Focus station wagon. I sung the praises of my wagon, singling out the outrageous amount of groceries that could fit in the back.
But over the last few months, functions integral to one’s basic safety began to disappear. The headlights on the car were stuck on high beam. The heat wouldn’t turn on. The brakes ceased to brake. That was a big one.
So, finally, I decided it was time to retire my old friend. I have a new car now, and one thing I really enjoy about driving it is that I no longer feel as though my life might be at risk.
Now, I will test the market to see what the interest is in an old, unsafe and undesirable station wagon. Sentimentality is not a selling feature, I know, but it’s really all I’ve got here.
“Featured: low tire pressure from recent trip with friends to cabin,” I’ll write. “Saw a grizzly bear. High mileage!”
“Power windows do not function. Once parked car while overlooking beautiful sunset. $3,000 FIRM.”
Really, what the car has to offer is that it is a “mechanic’s special.” I love that phrasing. It is basically saying, “here is a bad car that does not work, but if you buy it, it’s your problem.”
Certainly, some of the problems in the car I could go ahead and fix myself. A lot of the electrical issues could probably be remedied by replacing fuses. But I am the sort of person who lifts the hood of a car and feels immediate stress, so, “mechanic’s special.”
My new car has all kinds of features that, while basic, to me just scream luxury. With the turn of a knob, you are able to control air temperature INSIDE your vehicle. Pressing your foot to a floor lever quickly reduces your speed. Utilizing the radio device allows you to listen to live local personalities. I’m a lucky, lucky man.
So begins a new chapter as I return to cover local politics and education for Rocky View Publishing. You may see me parked at your local events, mesmerized by features that were standard in vehicles by the year 1992.
