Trix and Me

I had just gotten home late from work. My stomach, as usual, was grumbling and yelling at me “FEED ME!” I walk over to the fridge and open the door hoping things had magically changed since I last opened it in the morning. Nope, still just some milk, condiments, ground beef I should toss, and some beer. Boo! But hey, at least I have milk. Where there is milk there is always cereal.
I opened the pantry and start to pull out the Corn Bites, Kroger’s version of Chex, and saw a red box out of the corner of my eye. I glace up and see a small box of Trix hiding on the shelf above me. I had forgotten I had purchased a box last time I went shopping. Score! Corn Bites you can live another day,  Trix are tonight’s dinner.

Finding one of my larger bowls, I fill it to the rim, add a hefty amount of milk, and strolled over to the table to enjoy my childhood treasure.

Trix were a staple at our house, right next to Cheerios and pasta. These little colorful bites gave us a plethora of changing color spoons with ears on top. You say Trix and I’m thinking about Saturday morning cartoons, the ones BEFORE Sponge Bob Square Pants. They had good shows like GI Joe, Captain Planet, Power Rangers (while they were still cool), Looney Toons, Teenage Mutin Ninga Turtles, and a whole bunch more.  As I plunge my spoon into childhood, I realize, like the actual animation of those cartoons, it’s not quite the same as I remembered. 

They have replaced the fruit shaped pieces with little colorful balls. Some of the balls are swirled, some of them I don’t even know what kind of fruit they are pretending to be. The box seems ten times too small. The cereal that use to taste so good, now tastes like little puffs of sugar. I’m a huge fan of crunchy cereal, and before I’m even halfway through my bowl, most of the pieces were soft.  I am still going to eat the rest of the box of cereal, but it just doesn't bring me the same joy it once did. I could blame a change in my taste buds or faulty memory, or change in there dye they use in the cereal. Whatever the real reason, in the end, Trix just isn’t quite the same. Remember the past, enjoy the present, live for the future. Even with cereal this holds true. 

Card Shopping

I am a big believer in sending people cards. Well, actually more like anything that you can put a stamp on and the mail person will deliver. I like to think that getting a card, with usually a pretty cool picture and words/poems/sayings/jokes that is better written that I can do, combined with my chicken starch can put a small smile on someone’s face, even for half a second.

Plus, I assume most people are like me, and I mostly get junk mail and bills in my mail box. Who wouldn’t enjoy pulling some plastic fruit or a colorful prink envelope out instead of someone telling you owe them money?

It was this thought that I went to get a card to celebrate the birth of my friend’s first baby.

I looked at a few “It’s a Boy” balloons and cards and all I could think was Duh! I mean, first they’ve known it was a boy for the last few months. Are we trying to convince ourselves or the parents the sex of their kid? Or it is suppose to be a way of showing you paid attention by getting the proper balloon and or card? I didn’t like it. I went with the Angry Birds Balloon. However, the one I grabbed was attached to a stick. It wasn’t until I was in my car that I realized why. The balloon didn’t float. Well boo on me.

So after choosing not to tell the new parents the obvious, that they just had a baby boy, I decided to go with a blank card. These usually had one saying on the front or some cute picture. I knew the cards were blank inside, yet every card I picked up, I had to flip open. Why? I have no idea, I couldn’t stop by self. By about the 8^th time I did this I started to laugh out loud. Why do I keep expecting there to be words when I’m standing in the blank card section? I felt like a goldfish with my memory only lasting 3 seconds. Each time I opened the blank card I was first surprised there was nothing witty inside and then was like duh! Some days I’m a slow learner. This was one of those days.  

I went with card that had Super Woman on it. I felt like it was appropriate. I then wrote who knows what in the card. I think winging cards, speeches, and pick up lines are straight up bad ideas for me. That and my hand writing is so poor that trying really hard to make it more legible actually does the opposite. Oh well.

Mom, baby, and dad are doing fine all thanks to my card. Ha, just kidding, they were doing before then, now they had another half a second to smile again.

Eleanor Gets a Bath

For those of you who do not know Eleanor you should be sad. She is one of the sexiest cars you shall ever have the pleasure to lay eyes on. Eleanor is an Oldsmobile Delta 88 from 1988. She is maroon, a beast, and like me, kind of hard and banged up on the outside but soft and squish on the inside.

Bent Antenna

She’s the first car I’ve ever officially owned by myself.  For all of her flaws: steering wheel randomly dropping plastic on my lap while driving, a sever drinking problem (she chugs gas like it’s nothing), driver side window is really hard to roll up, the breaks squeak every time it rains, the speedometer isn’t quite right, the seat belt randomly unlatching, the radio  changing volume for no reason, a door handle is coming off, ceiling starting to sag, all of her scratches, dents, dings, and missing paint, she is mine and she is awesome.

For having so much character the benefits outweigh her flaws. No car payment, she gets me from point A to point B, I never have to worry about anyone breaking in to steal the tape player, bench seats so I can take 6 people instead of your standard 5, velour seats, a huge body carrying…er I mean suit case carrying trunk, I always have ugly car rules in my favor,  super cheap insurance and when going through the shadier parts of town no one ever looks my direction. (I don’t go through those places on purpose, I just get lost easily.) You don’t find cars with her kind of bad ass personality anymore.  

I’ve gotten distracted, back to the story. I decided a to give her a bath. The last time I rewarded her with a bath it was because she made it back and forth to Virginia Beach over Afton Mountain. That actually wasn’t a good idea. I was lazy and went through one of those automated carwashes.  Not only did the carwash do a poor job by leaving most of the dirt still on her, it  bent her antenna.

I decided to take her a self serve carwash. After cleaning the dashboards and other plastic parts, attempting to clean my windows, and taking out random items thrown about the inside,  to the carwash we went.

The day when I accidentally bent her antenna was the last time I personally vacuumed her out. $1.50 and two vacuum time allotments latter, her floors and seats look fantastic. Time to rub a dub in the tub, or in this case, car shower? It has been a while so I had to first read what all the settings where, figure out where they hid the brush, power washer, and where the money goes, hey look, they now accept credit cards! Windows rolled up? Check. Doors shut? Check. Money? Check. Let’s do this.

Put my $5 in and the time immediately starts ticking. Just so you know, hitting the stop button does not actually make anything stop. I thought I’d pause time while I figured out what setting to go with first. It didn’t so the race was on. 9 minutes to get her clean.

Best way to start is always to do a quick rinse. Not only was I blasting dirt and bugs off of Eleanor but I saw a fair amount of clear coat and paint chips fly off as well. Alright she’s damp, now time to scrub. Have you held one of those car brushes in a while? They are kind of heavy, badly balances and the stupid hose keeps thwacking me and Eleanor while I run around trying to beat the clock. Top, bottom, sides, windshield, side mirrors, bumper check. Then it’s back to rising.

The dial suggests wax. It brings back a memory of when someone else suggested I wax Eleanor. I told them the same thing I kept telling myself, there’s no point but I turned the dial anyway. I think the next setting was the most fun. It said it would help protect her clear coat. I laughed and walked around spraying the wax on. I think the best way to protect her clear coat at this point is by hand washing her instead of using a power washer. Even then there would still be paint chip loss. Then the option for a spotless rinse. The time starts to  beep telling me the game is all over. The pressure in the power gun goes limp.

I take a moment to survey my surroundings. Eleanor is all shiny, clean, and wet. Various colored liquids, bubbles, water, and paint chips drift towards the drain. A job well done. I driver her home and realize that clean cars are like clean sheets, they just make you feel better.

In summary, I think Eleanor is missing more paint then before, and being all squeaky cleans just shows off all of her scratches, dents, dings, bumps, and other abuses she’s taken. Dirt is the concealer of the car world.  But I’m happy so I’m guessing she is too.