Most tragicomic comment of the week (so far) at one of my favorite blogs
It reminds me of the story of the very elderly couple — the husband 103 years old and the wife, 101 — who shocked the entire rest home by divorcing a week before they would’ve celebrated their 80th wedding anniversary.
Someone asked the gentleman why they were splitting up after such a long life together, and he explained, “We wanted to wait until the children were dead.”
Mind Change.
Ford Edge.
Nissan Murano.
Honda CR-V Touring edition! Bought it off the showroom floor. Loaded.
Evidently, being Black made a big difference. That, and HW’s 2003 was also a CR-V (she doesn’t care for change).
Upsold us on the paint protection shield, and window visors
She loves it!
Although the vehicle has yet to learn her voice. Supposedly, nearly every feature in the car can be activated/deactivated by voice. Example: “Set temperature to 72o“. The salesman had HW repeat it over and over again during our pre-driveaway training, but alas, never could get it to work. The damn thing kept wanting to call some 800- number instead. If you have the keyfob close by, and do it just right, feigning a kick beneath the bumper opens the hatch. If you don’t do it right, and/or you’re on ice, you may fall on your ass. In small print in the owner’s manual it states Honda is not responsible for these misadventures.
I like that the drink holders are large and readily accessible.
Inaugural drive to the Nest this weekend. Salesman cautioned us about the break in period – keep it under 100 mph on the highway. You should’ve seen the look on HW’s face.
Something brewing on our kitchen counter. Take a guess. Hint: Vinegar is involved.
At spin class three mornings a week now. Still waiting for winter to bleed out.
What’s spin class like? Here’s a few excerpts from Monday’s 45-minute class
I’d hoped to capture the perky Miss Jen doing the motivating, as she usually does on Mondays, alas it was Mister David instead. You may think we’re seated in the saddle for 45 minutes pedaling as fast we can. We are not. We stand and sit and sway and tap and pulse, and generally try to keep up with the beat of the music and mimic whatever the motivator does. The bike is really just a prop for a full body workout. Every bike has a knob you turn to increase or reduce resistance. You might have heard David say, “Now add some more gear.” (Along with a breathless WTF at minute 5). That means turn the knob to the right. It’s the honor system; you can ignore his command and take it easy on yourself if you want, but you wouldn’t be getting your money’s worth. Pain, you’ll recall, is nothing more than pleasure leaving the body. In that sense it’s like a trip to the dentist, except you’re not on your back.
The last two minutes of every class is reserved for stretching exercises off the bike. A lot people in the class also do Yoga, so they’ve no problem complying with motivator’s command to twist up like a pretzel and “Just Breathe.” I don’t do Yoga so I skip that instruction. It’s not so much I can’t put my ankle behind my head, it’s just I’m not so sure I could bring it back around. Not without crying out for help.
50 degrees and bluesky all this past week, and even warmer next week, so there’s hope. The snow disappears surprisingly fast. I walk around the backyard wearing a poop mitt, picking up easy to spot month-old poops coming out of the thaw. Easy to spot because most of ’em are covered in fuzz. Others are still half stuck in patches of ice in the shady areas of the yard. They break in half when you pull on ’em.
Hard to believe my bike tour is only two months away. Lots to do yet to get ready.
She likes this one.
Interior: Ebony Leather.
Exterior: Burgundy Metallic.
Present location: On a ship in the Gulf of Alaska.
Headed our way
Heated steering wheel! Useful feature for her Raynaud’s Syndrome.
I rode tandem with Joan Jett this morning – “I hate myself for loving you!” At least it felt that way. Our Monday morning motivator, Jen, does like to mix in some “old school” rock ‘n roll in her classes. The entire front wall of the studio is covered with a mirror. It fogs up when the room is full and the fans are on low, like this morning. A crowded room that starts out comfortably cool is like a sauna after 45 minutes of as many people perspiring profusely. Doesn’t smell too good either. Imagine you’re on a full elevator and someone who had Kim-chi for lunch lets go with a wide yawn.
And so, you may wonder, why spin class instead of riding my real bike outside? After all, it’s Springtime! Tell me about it. We got slammed with another foot of snow last week, on top of the mess still on the ground that won’t melt because this March has been cold. Supposedly, the third coldest March since 1977. Happy Wife takes Winter’s lingering contempt for Spring in stride. She still sometimes says, Isn’t the snow pretty?
She needs a new car. Her candidates so far are: Ford Edge and Nissan Murano
2017 Edge
2017 Murano
I’m partial to the Murano, plusher ride, but otherwise they’re pretty close in performance, price, and features. She also wants a manual transmission (go figure), but she’s going to have to give that up because it’s not available in either vehicle. And she wants a roof rack thingamajig to move kayaks about. She’s suspicious of many modern “features” in vehicles, especially the electronic gadgetry. She’s not amused by key-less start, prefers the confirmatory click of push buttons over touch screens, and generally distrusts cruise control. If Plymouth still made the Valiant she’d buy one in a heartbeat.
If you’re looking to buy a used ’03 Honda with 116K miles, shoot me an email.
