I don't know what it is with me and cars these days......
.,,,,,, but they have become The Bane of my mental health, of my
I stayed to help the volunteer clean up after Bingo on Wednesday July 2,
2014. My personal policy is to keep my karma balance with as solid a positive
balance as possible. Unfortunately Tuesday was apparently a 'no good deed goes
I was headed to the Library and then home but as I shifted gears turning
off Essendene onto Montvue there was the sound of mechanical mayhem and while
the engine was running, no motivation was being delivered to the wheels.
I managed to glide into a parking spot in front of the Fraser Valley
Inn; but no joy - the automobile remained unmotivated to move.
Getting out of the car I stood there looking at HUB - so near and yet so
far - and thinking about the $45 - $60 to be towed a single very short block to
HUB. ##@!!!&%^$## I thought to myself, getting into the car, starting the
engine [so I can easily steer] and beginning to work the car into traffic.
Two gentlemen stepped off the
side walk, telling me to put on my hazard lights and pushing me out into
traffic and into a u-turn headed in the direction of HUB.
I got around the corner onto Essendene, popped out of the car and put my
shoulder to the door frame to keep the car rolling when a gentleman in a
pick-up truck whips into HUB and he and his passenger pop out and hustle over
to help push the car into HUB.
Two separate times people stepped forward and lent a push. It is this kind
of help appearing that is why I consider it wise to keep my Karma account with
a solid positive balance.
I suppose it should have been no surprise when Balance had some ill-mannered
lout accelerating away when the traffic signals on Essendene turned to green,
clearly bent on denying me the left turn into HUB motors without having to
stop, then start, the car rolling.
With the transmission probably
gone, the car likely toast and worth only scrap value - the condition of my car
was a matter of complete indifference to me. Indeed, the only useful purpose
the car seemed capable of achieving was to deliver a lesson in the wisdom of
Wisely the lout apparently recognized the kamikaze nature of the situation
and wisely decided not to play chicken.
I got the car parked and spoke to the HUB staff about them checking to
see if it is something [relatively] cheap and worth fixing. I also arranged to
leave the car there for a day or two if the problem - the car - is not worth the
cost to fix; a state of affairs which would leave me scrambling to find a
replacement and perhaps looking to find short term replacement transportation.
Having dealt with The Bane to the extent I could at that point in time,
I set off to walk down Gladys to the Salvation Army and access a phone, phone
book and computer to get a ride home and start spreading the news of my quest for
affordable and [please, please, please, please, please] dependable
While it is not a long distance the walk became a matter of focusing on
the destination and purpose and coping with the rising level of pain as my
right leg became a burning pain and my back turned my steps into grinding torture.
Adding insult to injury an internal nattering nabob of negativism
manifested and started berating me [myself?] for not bringing one of the canes
I keep in the car for more than short walks or periods of time on my feet
without a chance to sit; a nattering stream of negativism into which occasional
comments of catastrophe and Auto Destruction of my Life were injected.
Oh Joy. On the upside, the pain that would be involved in stepping off
the sidewalk onto the roadway means I have no urge to go play in traffic.
I got to the Salvation Army at 5 pm, the beginning of the Intake shift
at the emergency shelter, and find Mike there having just given Steve a ride to
work. The door opens revealing Steve and Cliff and I explain about the probable
demise of The Bane and ask them to keep their eyes and ears open for an automobile
and to spread the word of my critical need for a car at a marvellous price.
I stepped through the door to head for the office for the computer and
phone when Steve suggests I get a ride with Mike - who is just pulling away. A hot
day means Mike has the windows down, hears me as I shout forth his name and
grants my plea for a ride home.
We swing by HUB to leave them the Keys so they can make sure it is not
something easy, simple and affordable to fix – at 4:32 PM PST Thursday July 3, 2014 the call confirming the demise of my transport vehicle was
received - and Mike dropped me at my
I am thinking a beer sounds good, and six sounds even better. So I have
a coke. Sit in front of the fan and read a Calvin and Hobb's collection I found
at a thrift store for a dollar.
Letting my mind process the $$$##@***&^)($!!!!@!!!* Car.
When my mind wondered if Vancity's decision to offer payday loans to
help people escape the clutches of those blood sucking leeches Money Mart, Moneytree
et al might mean I can get a modest car loan???????......I know I am ready to start
dealing with the The Bane and the BLEEP hitting the FAN.
I moved to the computer to begin to set down this latest chapter of my
transportation tribulations and the Universe’s ongoing offensive against my
sanity. Paranoid? No, at this point in time there would appear to be evidence
attesting to the Universe’s use of transportation tribulations – car problems –
to test my mental mettle.
Writing about this latest transportation tribulation helps me to vent,
to process and to accept that the car is dead; prepares me mentally to deal
with disposing of the dead coupe’s remains, finding a replacement and somehow
managing to finance the purchase.
More importantly writing about the situation allows me to network and
spread the call for aid in finding a replacement for my prior transportation
that has shown a complete lack of consideration in becoming a scrap metal
Sigh! I had just finished repaying the money used to purchase The Bane
and was on track to full financial recovery from the effects of needing to
replace my prior Bane.
Then Kablooee! All that financial
pain and discipline is blown up by a blown transmission and the spectre of
homelessness looms once again.
The real danger of not having a vehicle is not that I
might not make it to Monday’s appointment with the psychiatrist or incur a fine
for returning library books late or other annoyances arising from my loss of
The real danger is being trapped at home with my thoughts
and within my mind. A component of my Wellness Recovery Action Plan is getting
out of my place when I begin to brood and my thoughts turn to the dark side.
With my car having died I am not only trapped at home, but
my car woes provide a focus to brood on, to feel sorry for myself, to catastrophizing,
a trap of negativism, of not getting out of bed.........
Hark! I seek aid in accomplishing a successful conclusion
for A Vehicle for James.
If you know of a vehicle or can help in any manner, email