Chilly Sunday

I'm sitting in the living room, a lap rug over my legs to ward off the chill -- it's a rainy, damp Sunday; feels almost like winter. We just had a balanced dinner of greasy pepperoni pizza, flavored water, and cinnamon bread that my wife had made this morning, but which, due to some early morning grumpiness on my part, we didn't have. My wife thinks I'm a little off because of the impending car purchase; she may be right, though I ascribe it more to a reluctance to go into the office tomorrow and get beaten up some more due to the audit. I have some reasoned, rational answers, but I'll have to be careful about rolling them out; better, I think, to nod penitently and let them storm and rage for a while. I don't want to, but I think it's likely the best approach.

I started reading Stephanopoulos' book this morning. Since its not a novel, it doesn't have the concentrated forcefulness, nor the clear sense of purpose that Executive Orders had (which can be summarized as Good Guys Almost Always Win, Decency Almost Always Trumps Guile and Deceit, and Massively Computerized Weaponry Will Carry the Day, Betcher Ass), but what the heck: its reality, or at least his version of it. As I was sitting here in this same chair today, listening to the rain, and reading that book, Emmanuel Ax playing softly in the background, I could see myself doing this in retirement. Wouldn't want to do it all the time, but its not a bad way to pass the day. That, and baking.

We're still leaning in the direction of the Prius. The two things that are showstoppers are first, the interior length of the car with the back row of seats down; we have to be able to carry a pole (my daughter's color guard flag) thats about eight feet long, and second, the view out the rear window, which I remember as being fairly grim, since it's bisected by some kind of bar, which might be the top of the hatchback -- not sure. And we're a tad queasy about the acceleration. I did a little test this evening, coming back from picking up the pizza -- stopped on the empty road, then floored it. The van took just about eleven seconds to get up to sixty, of which perhaps half a second was skidding on the wet pavement. That makes it comparable to the Prius, which I believe says its about ten seconds for the same distance. I remember when I was first driving the van, which has a smaller engine than its predecessor, I was a little concerned, but I got used to it pretty quickly. I'm assuming the same thing will happen here, if we pursue it. There are some other, minor things -- the seat's not height-adjustable, the steering wheel doesn't telescope -- and one thing of mild concern: performance is worse in frigid weather, to the point where you can actually flatten the drive battery if you push it hard enough. Hmm....

We also have to figure out what to do with the Buick. I'd like to sell it locally, but that implies having someone around to show it, do we require cash or a check, that kind of thing. I'm not up for that. Also, there's the key question of how much: its a 91, in pretty good but not outstanding shape. We think its worth about 1600 or so, which means ask for 2000, accept 1500. Unless its a dealership, which I think would knock it down to around 1000. Not too thrilled about that.