Auto Sufficiency

It's not abnormal to see people parked on the sidewalk. Or, like this lady on the right, right up IN the bus stop. The Ertzaintza usually just let it go-probably because they have to park their squad car on the sidewalk, too. Towns in Europe were generally not designed with the automobile, or its need to chillax somewhere, in mind. Which makes for a much more pleasant society overall than say, the diesel extravaganza of California's inland empire, or the parking availability in L.A. that causes it to sprawl into the size of Delaware. But the parking situation is bananas, which is not helped by the fact that virtually all vehicles have stick shifts, requiring mad skills. I wouldn't be at all surprised to see a natty green Citroӫn parked up a tree, teetering on a branch in the breeze.

Which brings us to F's hoopty, Jimi, Le (Petit) Peugeot. Jimi is a 1992 model that lacks power steering. When F turns Jimi, it's like he's opening the cover to the sewers of Hell, and he actually has to rest for a minute afterwards. Jimi makes Eeyore, the 95 Ford Taurus I drove for 10 years, look like a Coupe DeVille. When last I saw Eeyore, I was jumping up and down and waving as it was driven away, at mile 244,205, by a pair of friendly if also seriously down-on-their luck gentlemen from the Bay Area while I pocketed a treacherous stack of cash that was half of what I had originally hoped for. Eeyore had previously been rejected by the Santa Cruzan parent of a teenager, who had the gall to look horrified when, in response to his question of  'and what is this on the door,' I said, 'duct tape.' 

 

What Jimi lacks in accoutrements he makes up in panache. He has his very own Arbre Magique to freshen the interior. He gives off dark black smoke upon starting, and we're thinking about making him the star of a t.v. show. It would be a cartoon or possibly a claymation series about Jimi's adventures that plays at around 5 a.m. on Saturdays and would be watched mostly by insomniac adults who would happen upon it and be all like, what the hey? Où est Jimi? would be the way every show would start out, and we have a theme song already, it goes without saying. We are grateful for trains. They allow Jimi to hang out in peace, up in the mists of the canopy, or wherever else we can find a parking spot. Which is all to say-we could stand some adventure up in here, or a Saint's Day of some sort. We shall return when that happens.