Cool in Spring

This morning I awakened to one of the most beautiful days I've
encountered in a long time. Maybe it was just because I wasn't
hungover, or perhaps, it was just because the day was gorgeous.

Since it was such a beautiful day and the kids aren't home, I had
an incredible urge to do someting sweet, and caring and very
unselfish.

I'm going to wash my car.

I don't get to do it very often, my weekends are usually busy doing
other stuff, like laundry, changing diapers, and watching Sportscenter.

So today, I will succeed in my car-washing venture. The weather is
perfect. Not a cloud in the sky, well one that looks like Oprah, it
keeps getting bigger,.......then smaller....

It's perfect car-washing conditions. Sunny, warm, and I finally paid
my over-due water bill. You couldn't ask for better circumstances.

Dressed in shorts, t-shirt and sandals, I rush out into the warm
air, ready to wax on.....wax off.

While I'm sitting at Texaco in the car wash, waiting for the hot wax
cycle to finish, and enjoying some Lynard Skynard, I'm reminded of
when, as a sixteen year old, I had finally got my first car.

I washed it every single day. Sometimes twice a day if I had driven it
over five miles. Back then, I had women, or girls, to impress. My car
had to shine like a new dime.

Now days, I'm lucky to get my vehicle washed twice a year. It usually
happens once in the Spring, and once that folowing Fall. And that's
only if I can talk the kid who cuts my grass into doing it. (I enjoy
referring to him as a kid, me being only thirty-three. I think he's
like forty-two.)

After finally getting the car washed, I felt invigorated, and alive. I
opened up the sunroof, to allow the warm spring sun to filter in, and
warm my receding hairline.

Cranking up the radio inspired me to press down on the accelerator a
little more, and I quickly zipped through town. I made a swing
through the Wal-Mart parking lot, you know, 'cause that's where
you go to be seen. Leaving Wal-Mart, without buying anything,
(first time ever) I hit the main road, heading back to the house.

With my car shining, I pull up to the next red light in style. Next to
me, in the other lane, sits a very attractive female in a Lexus SUV.
I adjust my sunglasses, tap my steering wheel to the beat of the
Black Eyed Peas, and try to look cool. Which really wasn't that
hard, 'cause I was indeed, feeling cool. And my windows are tinted.

It was at the moment of my highest coolness, that I noticed
something dripping into my lap. At first, I thought it was sweat.
But I was cooler than sweat. When I looked down into my lap,
I noticed it wasn't sweat, it was white and purplish. Glancing up,
and out the open sunroof, I saw the sure sign of Spring. An
orange breasted Robin, sitting on a power line, with no sign of
decency or respect for newly washed vehicles, was taking aim at
my car, my head, and my coolness.

Driving home without my sunglasses and ball cap on, I decided
next weekend, I will get outside and wash my car myself, and
just try to be cool for me. I'll get out there with a hose, bucket,
some rags, and soap.

Then I remembered,... I'm busy. It's March Madness baby!
The Final Four starts next weekend.

Who needs a clean car to enjoy Spring anyway? A clean car
won't bring you happiness, and neither will an open sunroof.
These things won't make you "cool". What you really need is
a convertible!

And a time machine.