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Automobiles

7:00 a.m.: The Moron Hour

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Why IS it that every  moron on the planet turns out of their house at 7 in the morning? With their dog, o’course!

Just back from the morning DoggyWalk. Nasty morning: hot, overcast, and wet. Back porch thermometer registers a mere 85 degrees.

Days like this, sometimes rain just coalesces out of the air. Don’t even need clouds to make it rain!

Welp, that doesn’t seem to be happening today…not yet, anyway. Wunderground predicts a 15% chance of rain and just now registers an ambient temperature of 85 degrees. Not very hot. But yeah: damp, that’s for sure.

Ruby never seems fazed by a soggy atmosphere. Maybe the thick furry coat protects her, to some degree from the elements: whether cold and wet or hot and wet.

At this hour, everybody and their little brother, sister,, and grandmother is out tromping around with their dawg. And they just don’t seem to get it that “they just want to pwaaaayyy” doesn’t apply to your dog. No, stupid… my dog just wants to rip their dog’s throat out. 

After you tell them to please keep their dog back and they refuse to do so, they get all peeved when your dog goes in for the kill.

Speaking of dogs, M’hijito bought a puppy yesterday, to replace his beloved old white golden retriever who croaked over a few days ago.

Oh, my, what a little cutie! And the parents were also white retrievers, so this one will grow up to look a lot like the Late, Great Jake.

I should call him — the kid, that is, not the dawg — and see if he’d like me to bring something over for lunch from the AJ’s deli. That would be pleasant…and an excuse to see the new pup. 😉

***

Meanwhile: ugh!  My hip is spavined and hurts like Hell.

Years ago, the Late, Great Dr. Daley — one of the finest GPs ever to walk the surface of the Earth — told me that someday I’d have to get surgery on that hip. Looks like the Someday has arrived.

Just what I need: surgery, and then weeks in the hospital recuperating and going through endless physical therapy. Whee…I can hardly wait.

Could I even walk from AJ’s to M’jito’s just now? Probably: once I get going, the gait seems to move along OK. The problem, I think, would be trapping a bus, getting down to Central & Camelback, and then hiking to the Kid’s place.

Dunno. A guy across the street has taken up the Uber business. I may ask him to drive me down to the store…and maybe for a few extra bucks he could be persuaded to stick around long enough to schlep me from the AJ’s to the Kid’s house.

The Uber thing looks like quite the little Godsend. I’ve only tried it once, but it really was The Business! The guy showed up at my house right away, schlepped me across the city, and then showed up again at the dentist’s office to schlep me home.

Truth to tell, it really may be that Phoenix has turned into enough of a Big City that you could live here without owning a car. M’hijito would like to get rid of mine — apparently he thinks that at 80 I’ve reached such a state of decrepitude I’m not safe to be driving. And I’ll tellya: if I knew for sure that a car would show up when I call for it — and show up in a timely manner — I’d agree with him.

But…well…that is something that I don’t know. Actually, to the contrary: I do know…a cab is not gonna show up on time when you need it. Period. This ain’t San Francisco, folks: this is Phoenix.

And no: dyed-in-the-wool Phoenicians do not ride cabs.

 

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Back home right at 7:30 a.m. from a dog-and-human walk around the neighborhood: circumnavigating the park, roaming through the ritzy-titzy part of the ‘Hood, trotting past a major grocery store, past a 24-hour clinic, past the Sprouts, past the Walgreen’s…and…

..And WHY, again, have I been driving my car from the smallest pillar to the tallest post — with its pricey licenses and its expensive regular maintenance and its $3.48/gallon gasoline???

When my parents and I came back from our ten-year stint in Saudi Arabia, we took up residence in San Francisco, in a Fancy-Dan apartment development called Parkmerced. I dearly loved that place, and if I had the money (hah!!) would go back in an instant. It was a handsome place, and it was designed for residents to get around on foot. I rode the bus to school(!!!), and my mother and I rode busses and streetcars into downtown SF for our (altogether too frequent!) shopping trips.

Later, my father changed jobs and we moved to Southern California — to dowdy Long Beach, where I had been born and not far from where my father’s ships came in to dock. Unlike the Bay Area, southern California was not designed for pedestrians. My Northern California relatives didn’t even own a car. In Long Beach, you couldn’t begin to get by without one.

Remembering our walks around Parkmerced; and that walking was not practical in SoCal…probably because the place was not designed for pedestrians, as San Francisco was. Neither Gree nor Gertrude — my great-grandmother and great-aunt in Berkeley ever owned a car.

Just imagine having access to your job, to one of the world’s most magnificent cities, and to all the shopping you liked (and then some) without a car!

Well. I wonder if one could engineer something long those lines here in (un)lovely uptown Phoenix. Seriously…with a guy driving for Uber across the street, a light-rail train and a fleet of busses running up and down the main drags…why do I need to own a car at all?

Could I get rid of the Tank? That seems all the more feasible with a car rental place some three blocks up the road from my house. If something comes up that I really need a car for some episode, all I’d need to do is walk up the road and rent one.

I may give the Tank to Ian…let him pay the insurance and taxes and maintenance on the damn thing!

It is a nice enough vehicle, and it came in handy when one of its riders was a German shepherd. But a 35-pound corgi does not need a gasoline-powered covered wagon!

And to pay for an occasional taxicab surely isn’t going to cost what a van with its attendant taxes, maintenance and repair bills and gasoline bills costs.

How would I get the dog to the vet? M’hijito would have to drive us.

************
Arrrgha! I’m gunna have to crash out of this post. Can’t get it to do anything and do not know if it will survive. My apologies for the weirdness!!!!!

 

WHAT IF…you didn’t need a car?

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What if, here in the Great Newnited States of America, here in the ninth-largest city in the nation, on the tenth day of the seventh month of the 25th year of the 20th century, one discovered that…hang onto your hat…that one really didn’t need a car?

Got that?

Holeee shee-ut. What if a person living in one of the largest cities in the nation, one of the least enlightened and most politically conservative states in the nation, did not need to own a car at all? 

Imagine. 

Imagine what that would do to commerce here… To the automotive industry… To the taxicab and hired ride businesses? To busses and trains?

Welp…it’s beginning to occur to me that just such a thing may be the case. 

The other day, my dear son kiped my car.

Yes. My car is locked in his garage and my garage is empty.

The stupid quarrel at the basis of this fine state of affairs aside, the present predicament — if predicament it is — casts light on a whole series of matters. 

* In a city where it never snows and rarely rains, you can get around…and around and around and around…without a car of your own.

* Many of the neighbors are driving for Uber. Consequently, you can get a car-for-hire to show up at your door in five minutes.

* Now that the city has installed train lines on about half the main drags, a train or a bus shows up at the end of your block about every ten minutes.

* A daily train ride or three costs one HELLUVALOT less than a car sitting in your garage.

* Car insurance in Arizona costs, on average, $2,771 a year (!!!). That’s assuming you haven’t gotten a traffic ticket any time in recent years. Add a zillion bucks to that if you got nabbed indulging in any mischief behind the wheel.

So, my friends, what I’m just about discovering is that here in second quarter of the 21st century, it is entirely possible that one does NOT need a car in lovely ungodly Phoenix.

* It may take you no longer to get from Point A to Point B by train, bus, or cab than it does to trudge through the traffic in your own chariot and then park and unpark the thing.

* When you take into account the cost of insurance, storage space, and vehicle maintenance, it may cost no more to travel by cab, bus, or taxi…and in fact may cost significantly less.

* Yea, verily: every minute that tank of yours is parked in the garage or in front of your house, you’re paying some insurance company for the privilege. And it is eternally at risk of theft and vandalism.

Take a look at that damn thing out in the garage or driveway. Do you REALLY need it????

Car Hijinks: Is this even possible?

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Y’know…   It’s kinda embarrassing to have a son (even a magnificently grown one) who’s a lot smarter than you are. Eeps!

The other day, my son purloined my car out of my garage. He refuses to bring it back. So here I am: carless in Gaza, having to do errands on foot and hire an Uber driver for more involved appointments.  I thought the car-grabbing maneuver was just a moment of nastiness, or else the kid was trying to pull some sort of demented power play.

Uhmmm…. Not too swift on the uptake, am I???  :-

In fact, what he has been doing is demonstrating that he’s about 50 times smarter than his agèd muther!

Here’s what has happened since we took that car out of my garage:
* Not a dime has been diddled away on gasoline, car servicing, or anything else of a vehicular nature.
* The guy who lives catty-corner across the street revealed himself as an Uber driver.
> No kidding!!!! He uses his personal car as a taxicab…and he lives all of 30 seconds away.
> Took a ride with him: He appears to be a good, safe driver, and the inside of his chariot is spotlessly clean.
* I have not tried to kill a single one of my Fellow Homicidal Drivers.
* I did NOT, as had been planned, schlep the tank to the Ford dealer for updated maintenance work. $$$
* With the car locked up my son’s house, I’ve no concern about the passing burglars visiting my garage.
* The garage has been incredibly easy to keep clean (who knew???)
* Walking to the Albertson’s, Sprouts, or El Rancho provides a highly satisfactory amount of mild exercise.
Who knew, indeed? In a highly urban environment, the benefits of going car-free outweigh the benefits of owning a car.
That’s assuming you don’t use your car for regular commuting and you don’t have to drive to any destination every day.
Y’know what? I’m thinking we should get rid of that car altogether. Sell it and bank the money. Then I get M’jito or the Uber dude to drive me to the (relatively few) destinations I need to go to these days.
Whaddaya think? Am I crazy?

Inauspicious Morning

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Ugh! Not 7:30 yet, and we’ve already had one Drama of the Day. More to come, no doubt…

Ruby and I were headed homeward from the morning walk, when we came upon a favorite neighbor. This lady lives alone. She’s very smart and very charming and just the sort of person you enjoy having as a neighbor.

As we greet each other, she trips on a heaved slab in the sidewalk…and DOWN SHE GOES.

She whacked the heck out of her head. I wanted to go get my car and drive her up to the ER. She declined. Which was good, because in the heat of the moment I’d forgotten that my son has stolen my car.

Another neighbor came along. She also proposed that we take our friend to the ER. Again, Friend declined.

Reluctantly, we complied (what were we gonna do? Tie her up with a clothesline??). And our group dispersed.

***

And this is why I need my car. You never know when some emergency, small or large, will arise.

If my son persists in refusing to return it, I’ll have to go rent a car. And I may report him for stealing my car, which will cause him to lose his job. I hope the principle of the thing is worth it to him.

***

Ugh. Hot and humid out there: 99% chance of rain.

I should get off my duff and walk to a grocery store, since a few things are needed…and I sure don’t want to be prancing around in 100-degree heat…or 100% rain.

But ohhhh…how I am not in the mood! 😀

***

Reminded of where we lived in San Francisco, a sprawling middle-class apartment development called Parkmerced. Loved living there!

One of the amenities was a huge underground parking garage. My mother would park our car in its slot on the 6th floor (that’s 6 floors down), and we would rarely use it unless my father was in port. (He went to sea; we had to pick him up when his ship docked in the far East Bay, but otherwise, we had no real need for a car).

Frankly, it was cool not to need a car. Well: not “cool” in a social way but in a day-to-day lifestyle way. We could walk to the grocery store. My mother’s job was within easy walking distance. The city busses had a stop right outside our building: I could jump on a bus and ride to school.

If we were going anywhere outside of Parkmerced, my mother would drive us. But that amounted to surprisingly few trips! Mostly, the car sat in the parking garage…day in and day out.

Wish we could live that way now.

And we need this…WHY?

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Herein lies the question:

My son, the redoubtable M’hijito, got mad the other day and stole my car. Just now it resides at his house, all the keys stashed inside his shack. In 110-degree heat, it’s too far and too hot for me to walk down there and steal it back. And so…just now I have an empty garage.

Heh! To tell you the truth, a lovely empty garage.

😀  😀 😀

Seriously: It’s clean, tidy, uncluttered, and un-stinky. It extends the house’s usable square footage under roof by about 560 square feet.

No kidding!! That space is 20 feet x 28 feet…yes, that’s 560 square feet!!

Yeah:  FIVE HUNDRED AND SIXTY square feet whose sole purpose is to keep a tin can out of the elements and out of reach of the local thieves.

And…and…we’re doing this…WHY?????

So, here’s the question of the moment:

What if I never took the car back? What if I just left it at his house? Neglected to re-up its registration and insurance. In a word or four: LET HIM HAVE IT.

Well. The what-ifs would be as follows:

  • I would never again have to cough up the insurance to cover a rolling hole in the ground into which to  pour money.
  • Nor would I have to refill the gas tank anywhere from two to four times a month.
  • Or have it serviced every three or four months.
  • Or pay to fix whatever craps out on it next.
  • My son would get a nice Toyota van that he could choose to keep or choose to sell.

Truth to tell, I don’t travel around the Valley much any more. Most of my automotive destinations are actually within walking distance…

  • The Albertson’s supermarket
  • The Sprouts hippy-dippy organic grocery store
  • The Fry’s supermarket
  • Those that aren’t…well, they ARE within easy train or bus-ride distance. Or Ubering distance…

Except for the 110-degree heat, one does have to wonder…WHY AM I DOING THIS?

And THAT question is given some heavy-duty salience by the new presence of Uber cabs run by, of all people, the neighbors. Yeah: for a fraction of what it costs to buy, insure, and run a car, I can get someone else to schlep me to stores and doctors’ offices. When I can’t, I can walk a block and a half up the road and rent a damn car.

So…hmmmmm…..  It strikes me more and more that it’s stump-dumb stupid to keep that car. If Dear Son wants to keep it and pay the taxes on it and cover the ever-more-stupefying costs of maintenance, let him have it.