Often, you have to let go to move on
Lord knows the big problems of the world are not taking a breather—I especially want to send my kudos and support out to Dane Wigington et al on the geoengineeringwatch.org front — but every once in a while, no matter how committed one is to help save the planet, a man just has to kick back and take care of some PB. In this case, the time had come to make some decisions regarding my means of free noncommercial travel.
The 1997 Mercury Villager had come to the end of the line, and I loved that car—still do. For one thing, it’s a fond remembrance of my dear mother, who had been living in my condo since about 1998. [In 1999, knowing Mom had to replace her Aerostar van, I wandered down to Varsity Lincoln-Mercury in Wixom and saw it in the used car lot; I mentioned to her that I thought it looked good. Next day, I find out she’s gone ahead and bought the doggone thing, no questions asked. Fair enough.]
The Amazing Villager was an impulse purchase that worked out famously. The photo above shows that it still retains a youthful look, after 195,000 miles (160,000 from Mom and me) of yeoman’s duty in the back and forth department: traipsing down to Parris Island with five passengers to pick up my newly minted niece Marine, several crossings of lower Michigan to Battle Creek and back, I drove it to and fro the Free State (New Hampshire) on at least three occasions, and I believe Mom even took it down to Tyler, Texas, to visit friends once or twice. So there you are. A workhorse with a heart of gold. Continue reading