Thursday PM

I asked MCARP to tell me some good Buddhist stuff about letting go of material things and today he posts about his sense of loss over an old Volvo. Perverse s.o.b.

That's from John Long's blogblah! entry about the accident that claimed his Miata covertible Wednesday evening.

And yes, his accident got me to reminiscing about the Volvo.

I could say something about the impermanence of material things, and for that matter the impermanence of our own selves; about the Buddhist notion that there is no "I", and therefore no "I" to mourn the loss of a car, or a dream or an ambition or a lifestyle; all that stuff about how, when you look at objects at the subatomic level, you can't tell where one object ends and the next begins, and so there is, actually, no wrecked Miata or abandoned Volvo, no mcarp and no John Long, just atoms in the universe, and particles within the atoms, all one thing and yet nothing at all.

I could write about all that, and I will later. But right now, I want to focus on one concept:






































Minivans.

You've wrecked your sports car and you're ready for a change. So when that insurance check arrives, why not treat yourself to a roomy, practical yet comfortable minivan like my Plymouth Voyager? They have more cargo room than most SUV's, get much better gas mileage and have lower insurance premiums. You're sitting up higher –– a lot higher than in a Miata, so you get a better view of what's going on around you. Great leg room, lots of shoulder room, and if you take out all the back seats, you can fill the thing with a ton of crap.

Did you know I keep my extra cat food in mine? I buy two 40-lb bags at PetsMart and just leave one in the van until I need it. Sometimes if I leave a window open wide enough, a cat will get in there and tear the bag open, but that doesn't happen often. You could carry enough Science Diet to feed Sinatra for three months. Or buy more and feed the rest of the Cat Pack when they start hanging around the patio. And of course, if you're ever trapped in a snow drift during a blizzard or something, it does have a crunchy ocean fish taste and texture.

And since you're in a minivan, you can stretch out and snooze, staying warm –– maybe with your grateful significant other –– under your laundry and leftover Whataburger wrappers until help arrives. Although I have to tell you honestly, none of my dates have ever really 'gotten' the safety aspects of laundry and fast food wrappers.

We're all glad you're up and blogging, John.


iTunes: Kogetsu Cho, Tozan Nakao