Notes from Maine - 2022/09/11

I was working as a software developer twenty-one years ago when planes took down the towers. A bunch of us gathered in a common area where there was a TV tuned to one of the morning shows. As we watched the news develop, one of the managers came out and sternly informed us that we were at work, although given the circumstances the company understood that we were distracted by the events.

Everyone ignored the implied order to get back to work. Parts of my family live within shouting distance (if you shout really loud) of the Pentagon, so I was concerned. They experienced second-hand turmoil from the third plane.

I’m only remembering that because I wrote the date at the top of the page. I still don’t have a way to make sense of it, so I guess I stuffed those thoughts to the back of my head. Now they only come up because of the anniversary. I’m sorry if you lost someone that day. It must feel random and senseless—for a good reason. Those deaths only led to more deaths. 

On a different topic, I might get murdered today. I listed a vehicle on Craigslist and people are coming to look at it. Normally, I do all my Craigslist transactions at the police station. It feels safer that way. But in this case I want to print and copy the bill of sale, and I would rather not drive over to the police station again and again until it sells. I figured I would take a chance, screen people over the phone first, and then let them come to me.

I was frank in the ad, and even more open over the phone. The price is low because this is not a worry free vehicle. I posted a bunch of pictures of the interior because I know how dogged up it is. Since I bought this car, I’ve had mostly Great Danes and Mastiffs. There’s enough hair embedded in the ceiling of this car to make three new dogs. I’ve scraped off most of the crystallized drool, but there was only so much I could do (mostly due to laziness). 

Mom said, “You have to replace the floor mats. Look at that!”

One of the floor mats has a hole worn through it.

I shook my head and said, “I might put lipstick on a pig, but not if I have to go out and buy the lipstick.”

Mechanically, the engine is fine (I think). It’s all the parts that are attached to the engine that I find to be a bit suspect. Each year, I replace just enough of it in order to pass inspection and then cross my fingers that I don’t get stranded somewhere. Actually, I never have gotten stranded, but I’ve spent several trips shifting into neutral and laying into the accelerator so it wouldn’t stall. That issue turned out to be an oxygen sensor, I believe. 

Someone is outside—I better run out to try to persuade them not to buy it.

…

I was unsuccessful in chasing him off. Mark paid cash, signed the bill of sale, and then left. I sincerely hope he comes back to pick it up at some point. I’ve had that SUV for seventeen long years. I remember the first time my sister strapped her son into the car seat. I remember bringing home a howling Albert the winter before last. So many commutes with the windshield wipers going full steam and the four wheel drive keeping me on the road. When my brother moved up here, I towed a trailer of his stuff from Virginia and found out when I got here that one of the wheel bearings was grinding the whole way. My friend Brian points at this SUV every time he sees it and says, “I like the new truck.” It’s a running joke. Even with all those memories, the vehicle will not be missed.

So far, the transaction was effortless. I suppose the price was too low because the ad was up for less than an hour before Mark swooped in.

A couple of days ago, I loaded the dogs into Dad’s truck and took them up to the camp. That was an uncomfortable trip. The rear seats fold up so it looks like there is plenty of space. Unfortunately, Finn’s knee makes it hard for him to be comfortable most places. He was up and down, so Albert was up and down. By the time I opened the door to get out, Albert stomped on me in his leap to freedom. 

What I really need is an Equine Motorcoach. They cost about $500k and they have room for four horses and five adult people. I bet Earl wouldn’t fit inside though. He’s more of a “livestock trailer” kind of horse.

I really hope that Mark comes back and takes the SUV away. 

I know there’s no reason to worry, but it will nag at me until the thing is gone.