Key

Key

As some of you may or may not know, I recently bought a car. It was a replacement for my old beater that I'd been driving around in for the last 13 years and quarter-million miles. The new purchase was a used car. I believe I've probably bought my last new car. I just don't think you're getting the value from a new car that you get with a “newer” used car. And a lot of cars last a long time nowadays so you're not taking as great a chance on a previously-owned one as might have been the case years ago.

This wasn't the first automobile purchase I've made in my life. I've bought others over the years, both new and used. So I'm not totally clueless when dancing the “buy a car” cha-cha. The first step in this dance is the decision about what make and model would be acceptable. (1-2 cha, cha, cha.) The next step is the calculation as to what we can afford. (3-4 cha, cha, cha.) The last step in the dance is to amble around the car lots and to complete the dance between the salesmen and yourself. (5-6 cha, cha, cha.)

Been there and done that. I'm certainly not an expert by any stretch of the imagination, but not totally a doofus either.

This time around we used the internet instead of hitting a half-dozen lots and did most of our looking and selecting online. This time the dance was much easier.

So...

We ended up buying a 6-year-old Honda Civic. A nice, dependable car – not heavy on the flashiness but stylish. At least in our eyes. We were comfortable with the choice and liked the ride and the feel of the car. And it was our third Civic. The comfort level was high.

After having the car about a week we realized that it only came with one key. Uh-oh! This was a fault that we needed to rectify before too much time went by as my wife and I always have a spare of each others keys in case of one of us locks their keys in the car or does some other stupid move. We've always done that.

Before continuing I want you to be aware that our previous cars were 1998 models. That's important to the rest of the story.

We'd received a small income tax return check from the state late last week, so I told the wife it'd be a good time to get the spare key made for her.

We went to a local hardware store on Saturday morning to have this little chore accomplished. I'd gone to that particular store a couple years ago with my son to get a spare key made for his car, another 1998 model, an Accord this time. It was one of the newer “smart” keys and had a chip in it. The hardware store was able to make a new one for him and program it at a cost of around $50. I thought that was an atrocious price but, what can you do?

You see, I'm one of the old timers and remember when getting a spare key was a dollar or two. So you got a few, stuck one in the house, gave one to each member of the family and no one was bothered to give up their key so someone else could borrow the car. It was the way things were done then and it was the way things were done on our older cars.

I guess life was simpler then.

Anyhow, we went into the hardware store and I told the man there that we needed a key made. When I showed him my key he stopped me and said that they couldn't make copies there. It was one of the newer “special” ones and was unable to be copied by him. He showed me the reason. The keys edges, where the grooves on a regular key would be were smooth. The grooves were on another layer of the key (both sides) and were grooved on that, exterior layer. In other words, it took a very special machine to cut that key. Apparently ones that weren't available to anyone but a dealer.

That news disheartened me. I knew that a dealer would charge more. But I didn't know HOW much more. I thanked the man at the hardware store, took a deep breath and headed out the door and up the road to the Honda dealership.

I pulled in, parked the car and went to the parts department inside our local dealership. I showed the technician the key and said I wanted a copy made. And that started the process. They had to get the VIN number of the car to make the key. They also had to move the car into the shop. Haven't got a clue for what reason.

An hour later (that's not a misprint – it was an hour) I was handed my new key and a bill. Let me relate the charges for your perusal.

Charge one: One key – blank $58.02

Charge two: Programming charge $25.50

Charge three: Shop supplies $3.83

Total charges: $92.81.

I want you to read that again. NINETY-TWO DOLLARS AND EIGHTY-ONE CENTS!!! For a KEY!!!

I can feel the anger again rise in me as I type this. For a doggone KEY! Something that used to cost a dollar or two! Something that should STILL cost a dollar or two!

I looked at the new key laying in my hand. Not gold-plated. Not ruby/diamond incrusted. Not finely-wrought silver or platinum. Steel, plastic and an electronic chip.

Once more before I continue – NINETY-TWO DOLLARS AND EIGHTY-ONE CENTS!!!

Sigh...

I think the shop charges that they padded to the bill at the end were the ne plus ultra of the charges. Shop charges (and I quote) “cover disposals of fluids, tires, rags, filters and any hazardous materials.” I'm no mechanic, but gee whiz, Nelly. You made me a KEY!

Sigh (again)...

So I told my wife to be careful of the new key as there wouldn't be another one.

By the way, I tried the key and it did work. Thank God for small miracles.

As an aside to those who read my last blog about saying goodbye to my old car. My neighbor bought it. I told him all the things that were wrong with it but he said he was a good mechanic and could fix most of her ailments. He had the asking price in cash so I handed her over to him. He's already put new rubber on her wheels and is getting her clutch repaired. I think she's in good hands. And... I get to see her most days!

That's nice.

Welcome Home

Welcome Home

In the mid-1700's there was a word coined that's always fascinated me. This word referred to the attribution of human characteristics to non-human animals or non-human things, phenomena, material states, objects or abstract concepts such as god(s). The term coined was anthropomorphism. Characters from the story “Alice in Wonderland” or “Toy Story” are prime examples of how the term could be used. The inanimate toys in Toy Story and the fanciful animals and such in Alice were given human attributes.

You might wonder why I'm starting this blog with a lexicon lesson from several hundred years ago on a 5-syllable tongue twister of a word . Trust me that it's germane to the subject of the blog. And, whether you know it or not, most of us anthropomorphise all of the time.

Do you have a pet or know someone who has a pet? Does it have a name? Do the owners treat the pet like one of the family most of the time? Bingo – you're anthropomorphising! How about on TV... Gabby Hayes jeep on the Roy Roger's Show was named Nelly-belle. Knight Rider was about an automobile named KITT. Mr. Ed was a horse, of course! My Mother the Car. Etc., etc., and more etc.

I'll bet you could name a dozen more without even breaking a sweat. In fact, when you get right down to it, humans seem to have a predilection to name things around them and to give them human attributes, at least to some degree.

Here's a few more that cross my mind. Ol' Betsy was the name of Davy Crockett's rifle. General Lee was the name of the Duke's of Hazzard's race car. Old Yeller, of course. And who can forget Pyewacket the cat from the movie “Bell, Book and Candle”. Then there was “Kukla, Fran and Ollie”, only one of which was human. How about the Transformers? And pretty much all of the Disney animal characters. B. B. King's guitar was named Lucille. And don't forget the ancients who personified the wind, rain, lighting, sun, moon and innumerable gods with human attributes. Take a look at any Greek, Roman or Norse mythology book.

The list goes on and on.

Which leads me, albeit in a convoluted way, to the fact that my family has recently gained an new addition. You might say after hearing this bit of news, “Whoa, old fellow. You're a bit long in the tooth to be adding family members. What gives?”

So let me tell you a bit about her.

She's a 2005 edition who was made in Marysville, Ohio - a little northwest of Columbus. Her color is a beautiful shade of midnight blue called Fiji Blue Pearl and she has black interior trim and a handsomely patterned gray upholstery. She sports a peppy 1.7 liter, 4-cylinder engine and an automatic transmission. She's got some miles on her but still looks and runs as sweet as the day she was made.

As you can now see from the previous description, it's obvious that we've just purchased a “previously-owned” car. A Honda Civic to be precise. We'd been in the market for a while, knowing that my old car, a '98 Toyota Corolla with almost a quarter-million miles on her, was approaching a “put some real money into me NOW or get a replacement and let someone else fix me up” point in time. I still think she's got quite a few miles left in her, but needs some expert TLC to make her purr like she should.

So we looked around here and there and finally found one in the make, model and general ballpark asking price we were looking for. Unfortunately it was 150 miles away. We decided that it was probably worth the trip, so last weekend we drove to Bowling Green, Ohio and were introduced to her. After a bit of a walk-around where we admired her lines and how she differed from our older Honda, we hopped into her and took off for a test drive. She ran sweetly, had a comfortable ride and seemed quite well-behaved on the road.

I liked her.

My wife also liked her which was a GIANT selling point!

We did some more car shopping the rest of the weekend (that's a story for another day) before agreeing that the Bowling Green car was our top choice. I called the dealer on Sunday to tell him we wanted her and a week later we went back to pick her up.

After the passing of the check to the dealer and the fastening-on of the 30-day tag, we headed on home, wending our way through the flat-lands of northwestern Ohio and back toward the hillier country near home. We made sort of a 2-car eastbound Honda parade – the newer blue one which I drove followed by our old standby green one driven by my wife.

And on that trip homeward I began to quietly talk to the new car, the new member of the family, in my mind as if it were an orphan which we had adopted and were taking home to meet the family. This is the way to your new house, I said to her in my mind. We'll drive southward until we get near Findlay, then turn east. Then we'll go by Upper Sandusky, Bucyrus and Galion. Then on through Mansfield and we're starting to get closer. Finally, as we pass over the last hill and head downward we can start to see the first of the evening lights of Wooster, your new home.

I guided my new friend up the last miles of highway and onto the city streets where her tires would now frequently roll and swung her into the driveway and, at last, to her new home. I turned off the engine, patted the steering wheel and whispered quietly, “Welcome home, little girl. Welcome home.”

Now I'll have to find some way to break it to the old one that she's going to get a new owner and a new home before too long.

But it won't be easy. She's always been a bit stubborn. But if I clean her up and shine her up I think I can persuade her.

But, in any event, I'm sure glad I don't anthropomorphise my belongings!