Tuesday, April 25, 2017

new car

I picked up my new car today.  I talked to my Element on the way to the dealership saying goodbye and I had ample time for the conversation. Tonight I found myself in one of the worst traffic jams in my thirty six years living in Boston.  In a way this was a good thing. My left foot, still in the boot, had to hit the clutch maybe forty times in the seven mile ride.  I will miss the standard--but on the way out to the dealership I felt relieved that my bum foot will not have to depress the clutch on the new vehicle.

When in the past I have picked up a new car the handover has taken five minutes. Not today. About an hour.  I am feeling like an old timer in spades this week and the introduction to the new car did nothing to dilute that sense.  Before we even got in the car, the explanation of how to get in the car was other worldly.  As long as the "key" is in your pocket you can open and lock the car (don't ask me how--I will have to read the manual to review).

The tutorial in the car was out of the Jetsons.  I would have really preferred a simple--"press this to get heat" but noooo.  Nothing is that straightforward. God forbid you want to blow air thisaway at 65 degrees and your passenger wants air thataway at 63 degrees.

I can put on the emergency brake with a flip of the button which I just realized now in the house on a rainy night and my new car parked in a sloped driveway, that I did not do.  Also if you get within a short distance of another car you get a beep beep beep.  If you have the sonuvabitch on cruise control the sucker will stop itself if you get too close to a car.  I will not use the cruise control ever.

The thing that floored me, that really made me feel like Methuselah--after a litany of explanations which made me ready for the Home--was the salesperson's answer to a simple question.  The fellow who could be thirty years if not forty years my junior, showed me the manual and added that the book comes with a CD.  "Great" I said. "And as long as you are talking about CDs, where is the CD player?"

"There is no CD player."

Say what.

This car can do everything except bring the driver to orgasm, and this guy is telling me there is no CD player. He chuckled, when he saw my reaction-- the kind of chuckle a salesperson manufactures to try to win the favor of a customer.  What he really was saying was, "Nobody plays CDs any more old man."

One of the things I did over the weekend to ready myself for the transfer was put all my cds in a couple of carriers and place these vessels in the old car.  When I got to the dealership, I just moved the cds from one car to the other.  Now, I might as well throw them in the garbage.

The salesperson proceeded to tell me how, on my phone, I could replicate nearly anything I could listen to on a CD.  In a dizzying speech he explained the method and in no time signed me up for Spotify.

When I was in my 20s and 30s I collected records that now sit in the basement because I cannot imagine throwing them out.  Now I have a boatload of souvenirs that I might as well place near the records.

I have Sirius radio in this car.  They give you x months free, because they know you will sign up for more.  It will take me one month to figure out how to use it.  I pulled over on the short ride home and could locate only Sinatra, Gospel, and several baseball games.

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