Home from the hospital

Well, my baby boy is back from the hospital. Barney the Wonder Truck got to experience the American healthcare system in action. And much like a trip to the human doctor, a trip to the car doctor can take a major bite out of your ass. And I'm still smarting. B-boy was in for his 100,000 mile check up. And, well, there were complications.

Not that I begrudge my beloved Barney. He deserves the best mechanical care that money can buy. Or the best care the kind of money a pink collar job/slacker can buy. Considering that I bought the boy for cash 14 years ago, and he's had major problems a total of 4 times, he's shown himself to be a trooper. He's more than earned his keep. $1,400 is a lot of money. But considering that I bought him for cash, and I've known people who've had payments on 3 different cars in the time that Barney and I've been together . . . I suck at math, but I know that's a bunch of cash we've saved together. I may not have been able to have swung the down on my house without him. Barney's a good guy. I owe him.

But, as with every time you have major repairs done, Barney's personality has changed a little bit. His acceleration is different. Kind of slower, but more powerful. And my keys don't rattle from the vibration at a stop light. It's different. Not different bad. Just different. And considering that I have every intention of being with Barney 'til the cold, clammy hand of death parts us, we're just going to have to get used to each other again.