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.[1]

Letting Go

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 →