January 17, 2004

• Choices

  
  

  I must confess to something–I read Parade Magazine, that semi-glossy parcel of mind-numbing pap that comes with the Sunday paper.  It has the latest gossip about celebrities I never heard of, and lots of health advice that Kathy or I knew about fifteen years ago.  Last week, though, it had something that actually made me think, and even gave me a few laughs.

  
  

  The writer went to buy some jeans.  The clerk asked if he wanted slim-fit, comfort-fit, easy-fit, something else I don’t remember or extra-baggy.  Then she asked if he wanted the denim to be stone-washed, acid-washed, or something else I forget.  The poor guy  sort of stammered, I just want, you  know, regular jeans.  He went on to write about how the plethora of choices in today’s society actually lowers the quality of life.

  
  

  I totally agree.  Over 15 years ago, another writer observed in a similar vein that if you wanted to get a tube of Crest toothpaste, you had 37 choices, counting all the various sizes and flavors.  The toothpaste scene has gotten far more confusing since then, what with tartar control and whiteners and so on.  Personally, I just go for whatever has potassium nitrate and is cheapest.  But I digress.

  
  

  Point I was trying to make is, the ease of making choices is another benefit or our simple–and by “simple,” I mean close to poverty-level–life-style.  Take trousers, for instance.  I have two pair of jeans, which is plenty, since I don’t wear them in winter–too snug to wear long johns under.  But when I went thrift-shopping with my sweety yesterday, I did go looking to get a pair of trou.  I wear Dockers and Haggar chinos a lot, but was hoping to find something a tad dressier. And here is where it gets simple.  My favorite thrift shop always has something on half-price sale–yesterday, it was items with red price tags.  So I didn’t even look at pants with yellow or green tags.  I wanted a dark color, preferably with pleats, 34 to 36 waist, 30 to 32 inseam.  And boy, did I luck out.  Found a pair of Alexander Julian Colours, which has been one of my favorite designer labels since back when I could buy the stuff new.  Black, pleated, a light-weight poly-dacron blend, washable.  They fit perfectly, the fabic has a wonderful hand, and I just flat-out love them.  They look like new, and probably cost upwards of $100 new.  I paid $1.50.  That’s right, a buck and a half.

  
  

  Now take cars.  To me, anyone who buys a new car is wildly extravagant at best, never mind that I have purchased maybe half a dozen new cars in my own lifetime myself.  Now I know better.  Anyone who can’t find a perfectly reasonable used vehicle for less than, say, $5000 tops–isn’t trying.

  
  

  When I needed another car, I wanted something that would serve as my mobile store, which meant a wagon or van-like vehicle. Also, I wanted four-wheel drive, or at least front-wheel drive, so I can get out of my driveway in the winter. My first store car was an ’84 GMC Jimmy, my second was an ’84 Eagle wagon, both of which were 4wd.  Subie wagons are a little too small, regular vans too big and unwieldy.  Price was the major factor–no way would I pay over $1000.  I found an ’88 Dodge Vista Wagon–which actually is more a small van than a wagon–for an asking price of $600.  The guy took $550 cash and some jewelry.  Seemed like a great deal, especially since it came with an extra set of mounted tires.

  
  

  Then it turns out the title was screwy; we confronted the seller (AND his wife), they had to make a trip to Anchorage to get a signature or something from the person he got it from. After much aggravation and running around, we finally got the title straight.

  
  

  Then there was the matter of a few little mechancal glitches, like the broken mounting bolts on the driver’s seat.  The seat rocked back and forth as you drove, and would probably have broken off altogether in an accident.  The brakes were shot.  And the funny little shimmy in the front was not due to a bad CV joint, as the seller told me, but to the fact that one of the drive axles was cracked and was ready to break.  It was starting to look like the used car from hell.

  
  

  But I got a neighbor to install new brake shoes I supplied  in return  for some rocks as payment for his work.  Another neighbor, one of the local drunks, installed the drive axle–did it wrong, it turned out, as a real mechanic noticed and fixed later.  The same mechanic fixed the front seat bolt in exchange for a knife.  Oh, and the heater didn’t work,  but it just needed a new thermostat.  But the engine–which is fuel-injected, woohoo!!– runs great, I get 25 miles to the gallon on regular, the radio sounds fine, and the rear window wiper works.  In fact, everything works except for the rear window washer.  Big deal.

  
  

  So when all was said and done, I got a comfortable, roomy versatile vehicle which looks decent–okay, one of the rear quarter panels is dinged pretty good–for less than $1000.

  
  

  Like I said, life is simple.  Easy, no way.  But simple.  And good.

  • 1:23 am
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