This afternoon as I was sitting at my computer, vetting songs for tonight’s DJing and thinking about whether I’d rather blog or work on some rather urgent housework, AP came into the room (he had been over hanging out with Rosie) and said, “A bunch of us are about to go see X-Men: First Class – wanna come?” I dithered a little (that pesky sense of duty, plus general scarcity of money), but when he said it was still matinee prices, I thumbed my nose at my sense of duty and went. Rosie, AnniPotts and I piled into the back seat of AP’s old Volvo, Indy grabbed the front seat, and we headed out.
We got exactly two blocks before AP took a speedbump a little fast, and this happened:
That’s one of the support struts (or whatever they really call them) of the car, now poking up through the back dashboard, right behind where Rosie’s head was. It turns out that soon after AP bought this car about two years ago, he was informed by his mechanic that the car’s body was basically rusting out beneath him. It was only a matter of time before it gave completely in some way, and that would be the end of the car. (Which explained why the car’s owner had been willing to part with it for so little money.) It seems that the day was today.
Here’s another view, complete with AnniPotts reenacting her shocked surprise, and Dad looking on. We were so close to home that, after some consultation with Rosie (who Knows about Car Things), AP just carefully drove it home again. So far AP seems to be taking this in his philosophical stride. He knew it was coming, after all. And you have to admit that if your car is going to start to break into bits while you’re driving it, while you’re going less than 20mph two blocks away from home is not a bad time to do it. Much better than, say, gonig fast on the highway far from help. So things could be much worse.