A Break in the Action
So here's a quick story. My Miata is at 62 thousand miles, which is the point at which it is recommended the timing belt be changed. The Wifey called the place that did her old Corolla when it hit 65 thousand, and they said they could do it. SO I went , got a starting time, returned that afternoon, waited an hour before they informed me that they couldn't do it.
That was last Monday. The following day I found a place that guaranteed me they could do the timing belt, but said they couldn't squeeze me in until this morning. So this morning I drove over to the place, and the guy I talked to (not the same guy I talked to last Tuesday) said they couldn't touch it 'til Wednesday. So, on the way back from there I dropped in on the Goodyear shop where I got my Dunlop A-2 Sport Performance tires. They, of course, couldn't do it , but they recommended a Mazda shop not far away. I got home and called over there, and, after getting bumped back to the reception desk 3 times, got a guy at the service desk. Not only can he do it, but he is also a Miata owner-- owns one of the coveted yellow 92's, production run of only 15,000 vehicles, he he he he he he-- so the only hitch there is that he can't see the car until tomorrow morning. Early.
This has been doubly difficult. I am reticent to let anyone mess with my car, especially when it is running perfectly and there is clearly nothing wrong with it. So, basically, I need a break. Which I facilitated by writing a poem about our favorite Chinese buffet.
ODE TO THE DRAGON BUFFET
Here we scuttle, pagan crabs sunk in a Christian sea,
Back and forth from seat to steam table,
Selecting servings of spicy meat, steamed dumplings,
Sweet cakes and banana pudding
Dodging servers bearing pans
Fresh and reeking from the mysterious reaches behind swinging doubled doors.
Smart enough to mock the churchgoers, silly enough
To trust this food which emerges like magic
From a void for all we know, we take faith, we trust
That all is for the best
In this best of all possible buffets.
That was last Monday. The following day I found a place that guaranteed me they could do the timing belt, but said they couldn't squeeze me in until this morning. So this morning I drove over to the place, and the guy I talked to (not the same guy I talked to last Tuesday) said they couldn't touch it 'til Wednesday. So, on the way back from there I dropped in on the Goodyear shop where I got my Dunlop A-2 Sport Performance tires. They, of course, couldn't do it , but they recommended a Mazda shop not far away. I got home and called over there, and, after getting bumped back to the reception desk 3 times, got a guy at the service desk. Not only can he do it, but he is also a Miata owner-- owns one of the coveted yellow 92's, production run of only 15,000 vehicles, he he he he he he-- so the only hitch there is that he can't see the car until tomorrow morning. Early.
This has been doubly difficult. I am reticent to let anyone mess with my car, especially when it is running perfectly and there is clearly nothing wrong with it. So, basically, I need a break. Which I facilitated by writing a poem about our favorite Chinese buffet.
ODE TO THE DRAGON BUFFET
Here we scuttle, pagan crabs sunk in a Christian sea,
Back and forth from seat to steam table,
Selecting servings of spicy meat, steamed dumplings,
Sweet cakes and banana pudding
Dodging servers bearing pans
Fresh and reeking from the mysterious reaches behind swinging doubled doors.
Smart enough to mock the churchgoers, silly enough
To trust this food which emerges like magic
From a void for all we know, we take faith, we trust
That all is for the best
In this best of all possible buffets.
posted by Bobo the Wandering Pallbearer at 9:13 AM
5 Comments:
See, if you just drove an old beat up car like mine, you wouldn't have to worry about such things.
Miatas are awesome. Maybe I'll have one when my kids are grown. I should start saving now maybe.
We spent 3 hours with the Jetta at Sears a few weeks ago to get AN OIL CHANGE AND NEW AIR FILTER. Not only did they not have the right filter on hand, they also didn't have the right weight of oil and couldn't get the air filter. After all that, we had to take it to the dealer, where they took 3 hours putting in the air filter and flushing and filling the break fluid. (Volkswagen, of course, has become notorious for this over the years.)
Bobo, what year? I've got a sweet 94 with 44K on it.
Yowza. Mine's a 95, Mark 1.5. Had 44K on it when I bought it 2 years ago.
Cool. I have the M-edition with the tan interior and top. I love that thing.
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