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phantom car

Day 2 of carlessness. By far my favorite moment relating to my situation was Imo's reaction. She drove her sister over to my place yesterday afternoon, and when she saw me standing at the top of the stairs she burst out laughing. Hi dad, she called. Then she laughed some more. When she got to the top of the stairs she asked, So ... how's your weekend going? and burst out laughing again. Her amusement was so genuine it made me smile. This was clearly the best story she had heard in years. She's a funny kid, Imo, and the honesty of her response charmed the hell out of me.

You know, I've never thought about that expression before. I guess we all do carry a little hell inside us, and charm is an effective hell-remover. I picture it like furniture polish, getting rid of a water ring and leaving the table shining and clean-smelling. Of course Charm (registered tm) is a safe product, enviro-friendly and not tested on animals. Use Charm throughout the home!

Fear is a hell-remover too, but I see it more like Drano.

Off for some more coffee now, and then back to work. (Oh isn't that weird: thinking of coffee, I went on: I need more milk, so I'll just hop in the car and get some ... and then I remembered that I couldn't.) The mind is an odd imperfect mechanism, incapable of grasping a fairly simple

concept all at once. You have no car, Scrimger. Is it stupidity, or a kind of phantom state, like the feeling of real pain in an amputated limb? Maybe that's it. Maybe I have phantom car. (That's the picture, by the way - someone's idea of a phantom car.) I wonder if I have to fill it with phantom gas and phantom windshield wiper goop? What time is phantom rush hour? And if I'm stuck in it will I get phantom road rage, or the real thing?

On second thought, it's probably stupidity.


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