... and a sharp jab to the wallet

After thoroughly enjoying the graduation ceremony of a good friend at Merriwether Post Pavilion yesterday, I encountered some curious truck problems. It would start, but immediately die. That's a problem. It becomes more of a problem when one is in the midst of the recently graduated and their gathered friends and family. Especially when that midst is in sun-heated cars pointing every which way and making little discernable progress toward either exit.

I'm resourceful. I picked up my cell phone to call the local Ford dealer. Dying in traffic was not one of the features used to sell me on the truck. Thus, I reasoned this was unusual. Turns out I was right, but I wouldn't learn that until later. First, I had to settle up with AT&T. They seem to take those envelopes they regularly send me much more seriously than I had. Thanks to the magic of plastic I was able to get the communication monkey off my back and make a love connection with Apple Ford. They sent a man with a tow truck and we loaded up and got moving just ahead of a driving rain that erased the sticky white monuments of cicadas past from the windshield.

Today, I gave the nice people at the Ford dealership permission to do several things above and beyond repairing the fault. It is as if I have a new truck, but one with which I am already very familiar. Several deceased presidents have exchanged hands and we are all happy once again. Poorer. Much poorer. But ... reasonably ... happy.