Rejected, but not Dejected

September 6, 2014 – Rejected, but not Dejected

For years and years, maintenance of the family car was in Elliott’s domain of responsibility.  That changed in 2011.  On the verge of his 99^th birthday, the Virginia DMV declined to renew his driver’s license.  The official reason was his inability to see well enough to drive safely.  Elliott didn’t argue.  He traded in his license for a Virginia ID card, and I became the sole driver in the household.   At the same time, I also assumed responsibility for all the car-related tasks, such as filling the gas tank, getting the oil changed, taking the car in for repairs, and having the car inspected annually. 

In case you’re not familiar with our vehicle, it’s a bit of a relic – a 2001 Lincoln Town Car that was previously my mother’s car in Texas.  Although it’s 13 years old, it only has a little over 100,000 miles on the odometer.  It also has a few dings and scrapes, which don’t bother me at all.  I’ve become quite fond of the old geezer-mobile since we took possession of it in 2006.  I’m patient with its little quirks, such as not shifting into Reverse from Drive without going through Park.  I can live with the fact that it’s slightly lopsided, due to an injury suffered when it was transported from Texas to Virginia.  Sure, the floor on the passenger side gets wet whenever it rains, but I don’t mind.  I just keep the floor clear.  By now, this car is like an elderly member of the family, slowly falling apart, but still beloved. 

Its birthday is in September.  In other words, that’s the month for its annual inspection.  As usual, I wasn’t too worried about this year’s inspection.  True, the back of the driver’s seat fell off (clunk!) a few days ago.  That’s a minor inconvenience that doesn’t affect the car’s drivability.  So when I took the car out for its inspection at 7 o’clock yesterday morning, I felt certain I’d be driving home within the hour with a new inspection sticker.  However, much to my shock and dismay, the inspector handed me a rejection paper.  The reasons were spelled out (headlights not bright enough, a burned out bulb, a tire that needs replacement).  Certainly, I’ll take care of these problems as soon as possible.  But the word “rejection” stung me, especially because now I have to drive around with a incriminating sticker on my windshield, advertising my failure to the entire world. 

Perhaps I shouldn’t have, but I took this rejection very personally.  Immediately afterwards, I drove over to Costco, thinking I’d be driving out with brand-new tires in half an hour or so.  After all, how long could it take to put four tires on a car?  Ha!  Four hours, they informed me.  No!, I wanted to scream.  Four hours roaming the aisles of Costco?  Instead, I drove off in desperation. 

I felt an urgent need to change the trajectory of the day.  So, what did I do?  Retail therapy at the mall?  Ah, I had a better idea:  Wegman’s, which just happens to be down the road from Costco, and right on my way home. 

Wegman’s is my idea of paradise.  There were only a few necessities on my grocery list, but I decided to get myself a special treat or two.  After all, you can’t feel guilty about buying something if it’s edible, right?  After I picked up some organic kale and Elliott’s favorite baked goods, I wheeled my cart over to the bulk tea aisle to browse.  My spirits rose as I filled five little bags with samples of Yuzu Sencha green tea, Uji Gyokuro green tea, Genmaimatcha green tea, decaffeinated tangerine green tea, and white guava tea – all for the unbelievably low price of five dollars!  As soon as I got home, I prepared a cup of Genmaimatcha and brought it outside to the driveway to check on the car’s state of mind.  The rejection sticker stared back at me.  But the tea’s vivid green color and the toasty aroma invited me to put everything into perspective.  With the first sip, the pain from the day’s rejection started to melt away.  After all, there’s always another day to go to Costco for tires.  Then my old car will be good for another year on the road.