Thoughts on Buying a New Car

There are a lot of things I don't enjoy doing, but near the top of the list - which also includes root canals, figuring out our taxes, dealing with telemarketers, and chasing itinerant preachers away from the door - is buying a new car.

Buying a car is unlike buying anything else. You can't just go to the neighborhood car store, browse the aisles, pick the car you want, have the checkout person run a bar code over the scanner, and be on your way. No, car-buying is a dance rivaled in complexity only by the finest classical Japanese Kabuki, an intricate gavotte in which simple people seeking affordable personal transportation perform intricate maneuvers with a team of sales representatives, deputy assistant managers, assistant managers,  managing managers, executive managing managers, finance officers, finance managers, and senior finance managers.

It's not easy to get all those people into one small room, but they manage it.

I bring this up because Agnes and I have just purchased a new automobile. This was difficult for several reasons, not the least of which is that all of the cars in which we were interested cost the equivalent of the GNP of an average third-world country. Which brings up the subject of price ...

Nobody can tell you what the car you want costs. There's the price advertised in the newspapers and screamed in hard-sell television ads. Then there's the "internet price," the "sticker price," the "invoice price," the "Manufacturer's Suggested Retail Price," and the "sale price," none of which are the same and none of which is the real price. No matter what price is quoted, you must add taxes, tags (licensing fees), freight, "dealer preparation," assorted fees, surcharges, ma'am charges, and light brigade-charges. The actual price requires negotiations of the sort usually observed in the finest of middle eastern souks, and nobody with whom you speak directly is empowered to agree on something with you ... they must always check with their manager, who must check with his manager, who must then - from her Olympian heights - send back the stone tablet on which is graven the approved numbers, which are presented to you in order to start yet another round of negotiations.

Price negotiation is but one of the hurdles that stand between you and your new chariot. You must also find a car that has the features and accessories you want ... most of which can only be obtained as part of "option packages" which include a lot of stuff you don't want*. For instance, if you want an AM/FM radio, you have buy it as part of the "entertainment package," which includes DVD players in the back seat and a fold-out stage in the trunk on which optional midget performers can present shows at tailgate parties.  Want a sunroof? It comes with the "exterior prestige package," which includes the xenon quartz halogen cyber-infused security light package (only another $1750). And don't forget the trunk monkey.

In the good old days, the "Navigation Package" was a cheesy plastic envelope full of maps from the local Sunoco station. Nowadays, it's part of a nightmarishly complex multicolor video screen that also allows you to program your radio, answer your phone, play music, and adjust the trajectory of the Cassini spacecraft as it orbits Titan. And it's only an additional $3,675.

Okay, now you have found your car and it's more or less what you wanted. Now you have to deal with the finance department.

Considering that an average new midsize car costs about as much as a house**, the financing of the vehicle is very important, and the dealer - reasonably enough - wants to know that you are able to pay for this fine mechanical steed. Thus, you need to fill out the application for a credit check, submit a liter of blood for testing, and leave an arm or a leg (your choice) and your firstborn child as collateral. The finance manager submits all this information, pulls the lever on the side of his computer screen, and ... if three cherries spin up ... you are granted the right to bind yourself to indentured servitude for the sixty months it will take to pay off your car***.

Car buying. Just shoot me now.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* In this respect, buying a car is much like getting cable television services, which requires you to buy 700 channels (including Professional Fly-Fishing Highlights and the Sewage Pumping Channel) in order to get the half-dozen channels you really want to watch.

** As a comedian once said many years ago, "I never thought I'd have to pay $20,000 for something that didn't have a doorbell." You can tell how old that was.

*** By which time it will be pretty much of a wreck, anyhow.

Free Speech for Me. For You, Not So Much

I read a fascinating article yesterday on Atlantic.com - The Culture of Shut Up, by Jon Lovett.

In the article, Mr Lovett discusses how our tendency to shout down or shut out people with opinions other than our own, to vilify those who think differently rather than we do, is killing our entire concept of free speech. Here's what I thought was the best quote out of the article:

"The right to free speech may begin and end with the First Amendment, but there is a vast middle where our freedom of speech is protected by us - by our capacity to listen and accept that people disagree, often strongly, that there are fools, some of them columnists and elected officials and, yes, even reality-show patriarchs, that there are people who believe stupid, irrational, hateful things about other people and it's okay to let those words in our ears sometimes without rolling out the guillotines."

We live in a time when we don't have to listen to speech we don't want to hear. If you're a hard right conservative and you're offended by the very existence of a liberal mouthpiece like MSNBC, you can listen to Fox News all day. If you're a hard left liberal and you can't believe anyone would listen to the bilge masquerading as fair and balanced news on Fox, you can listen to MSNBC. Neither one of you ever has to listen to the opinions of the other and weigh those opinions in your own mind, without the filtering of your chosen media outlets.

What this means is that all too many of us live in self-reinforcing echo chambers where we hear only what we want to hear, and wonder not only why anyone would want to listen to that other junk, but why anyone should be allowed to utter that other junk.

This is what I find particularly evil - the idea that people with wrong ideas shouldn't be allowed to express them. Some people, particularly on the left, believe that some ideas aren't just wrong and offensive, but are so wrong and offensive that they shouldn't be allowed to be expressed at all. Speakers are shouted down or find their invitations cancelled for fear of controversy or - worse - violence. People who advocate ideas that most people consider offensive are stifled ... victims of Mr Lovett's culture of shut up (read his article for a lengthy list of people who've been told to shut up because their opinions ran contrary to popular opinion).

There are a lot of people out there I think are stupid, with whose positions I strongly disagree. But is either of us well served when we prevent the free exchange of ideas? I've always believed that the cure for really stupid ideas is to force them to compete in the give and take of the intellectual marketplace, where their stupidity can be exposed for everyone to see. Sadly, we don't do that. We decide that we need ... and everyone else needs ... to be protected from those ideas, and we make rules to prevent them from being expressed ... even though that convinces those whose speech is stifled that they're really right, because we're afraid to listen to their version of the truth. Here's another quote from Mr Lovett's article:

"We need to learn to live with the noise and tolerate the noise even when the noise is stupid, even when the noise is offensive, even when the noise is at times dangerous. Because no matter how noble the intent, it’s a demand for conformity that encourages people on all sides of a debate to police each other instead of argue and convince each other. And, ultimately, the cycle of attack and apology, of disagreement and boycott, will leave us with fewer and fewer people talking more and more about less and less."

It's frustrating, but we need to listen to the people we think are hopeless dumbasses.

After all, we may end up having to vote for them.

Have a good day. Listen to all sides of the argument, then make up your mind. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Training Officers to Be Gentlemen*

I found this interesting story from Time Magazine online yesterday: Becoming an Officer and a Gentleman: Air Force Academy Seeks Help to Teach Cadets Finer Points of Finer Living.

Yes, Dear Readers, although an act of Congress can make one an officer in the armed services, it requires special training to make today's officer a gentleman.

It seems that the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs has issued Contract Solicitation Number: FA7000-14-T-0013, titled "Social Decorum Training Program at the US Air Force Academy." You can download and read the actual Performance Work Statement (PWS) here, in case you were considering putting in a bid. Here is the Background/Scope section from the PWS ...

"2.0 BACKGROUND/SCOPE

Cadet Social Decorum Program. The contractor shall be responsible for administering, planning, and continued development of a comprehensive etiquette training program. The contractor shall provide areas of instruction and mentorship that include military, business, communication, dining, social and professional etiquette. The contractor shall present a syllabus and comprehensive training programs (seminars, workshops, lectures, briefings, and hands-on practical sessions) for all classes of cadets covering a broad range of topics related to etiquette and military customs and courtesies. Contractor shall support planning sessions and review meetings related to the Cadet Social Decorum Program.

SCOPE. Topics of instruction shall include but are not limited to: Social activities, event planning, personal correspondence (invitations, RSVPs, thank you notes), writing social correspondence, receiving lines and introductions, civility, behavior, basic hygiene, uniform wear and maintenance, appropriate civilian attire, posture, basic manners in a myriad of settings, common courtesies, telephone etiquette, table etiquette (settings, seating, decorum, conversation), the art of conversation (tact and diplomacy, small talk, use of proper language style, body language and non-verbal communication), social conduct in stressful situations, leadership roles outside the military structure, and ceremonies. Proper conduct and dress for functions such as USAFA Ring Dance, sponsor visits, USAFA graduation and commissioning ceremonies, dining-ins, dining-outs, events at commander’s and general officer’s quarters and formal and non-formal events in the community. The list above is not all inclusive but it does provide some examples."

I think that the fact that the Air Force sees a need to train its newest officers in ordinary social graces - including civility, basic hygiene, common courtesies, and the art of conversation is a poor comment on our society. What are parents teaching their children nowadays?

It's been widely reported that many college graduates, particularly athletes, nowadays can't read at a high school level, do basic mathematics, or write coherently. That's a failure of priorities in our system of higher education. But the fact that the specially-selected students we are training to to fly multi-million dollar aircraft and satellites, to manage contracts worth billions of dollars, and to lead others into war require supplemental training in basic social graces is pretty disheartening.

One can argue that warriors don't need to understand which fork to use with which dinner course, or the intricacies of etiquette in various social settings ... but they really ought not to need special instruction in common courtesy or how to carry on a social conversation.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* I use the term in its generic sense to include female officers, of whom there are many in today's armed services.

The Zimmerman Verdict

It seems as if every nutjob with a keyboard, a megaphone, and a third-grade education has suddenly become a legal scholar in the wake of the jury's decision to acquit George Zimmerman in his trial for the killing of unarmed teenager Trayvon Martin. I may as well weigh in with my own opinion.

To me, there are two key points to remember about this sad story:

1) George Zimmerman shot and killed Trayvon Martin.

2) The state failed to present a case that would convince the jury, and the jury - not without much soul-searching - did its job, weighed the evidence, and voted to acquit Mr Zimmerman of either murder or manslaughter.

Unfortunately, the case will go on, because it has to. It touches too many deeply-felt emotions and scrapes at too many raw wounds on all sides. Mr Martin's family wants to file a wrongful death suit against Mr Zimmerman, and the federal government is exploring charging Mr Zimmerman with hate crimes in a new trial*. I'm reminded of the old joke about the young defense lawyer who won his first big case and wired home to his firm's head office, "JUSTICE HAS TRIUMPHED!" His boss wired back immediately, "APPEAL AT ONCE!"

A large segment of the population had already decided, well before the trial ever took place, that George Zimmerman was guilty, and that the only acceptable outcome of any trial was to confirm that opinion. It didn't work out that way, and so the varying concepts of "justice" are now on display: to many people, "justice" required George Zimmerman to be convicted of murder and duly punished; to many others, "justice" was done because a trial took place in front of a duly-selected jury, the state failed to prove its case, and Mr Zimmerman should go free.

Who's right?

For what it's worth, here's my opinion: Trayvon Martin is dead. George Zimmerman killed him. The state failed to convince a jury that this event, although terrible, should be considered either murder or manslaughter in their strict legal definitions. The system, imperfect though it may be, worked. Let it go. Learn the sad and bitter lessons, and move on.

Unfortunately, there are too many people with too much invested in using the case to advance their own agendas, and so it will be with us for a long time.

Have a good day. More thoughts later.

Bilbo

* One wonders why this does not constitute double jeopardy.

The Problems You Never Knew You Had

You know, Dear Readers, that you have lots of things to worry about nowadays ... political ass-clownery, an economy in ruins (largely thanks to political ass-clownery), and insane levels of religious intolerance, just to name a few. You also know, thanks to floods of television ads from law firms with names like Hungadunga, Hungadunga, Hungadunga, Hungadunga, and McCormick (thanks, Groucho!), that you may be on the verge of dying a horrible (but financially lucrative in the meantime) death from all sorts of diseases, poisons, and medical malfeasance you wouldn't know about if it weren't for television ads run by big law firms. And on top of all that, the advertising industry wants all you insecure ladies out there to know that your well-being is menaced by all sorts of ghastly things like bad breath, vaginal odor, and ... gasp! ... exposed armpits!

Yes, Friends, you may enjoy this very interesting article by Libby Copeland from Slate.com - The Cure for Your Fugly Armpits: How Advertisers Create Body Anxieties Women Didn't Know They Had, and Then Sell Them the Solution.

The article begins with a look at the recent advertising campaign by Dove Ultimate Go Sleeveless Deodorant, which implies that women's armpits* are naturally ugly, and promises to turn them from the Ugly Ducklings of Summer Exposure to dry, sweet-smelling, and attractive hints of her hidden beauty, waiting to be proudly exposed by the sleeveless dresses she's always been ashamed to wear. It then goes on to discuss other great moments in advertising, including the marketing of Lysol as a contraceptive and vaginal deodorant and the horror of bad breath, which leads unfortunate women to the curse of always being a bridesmaid, but never a bride.

Oh, for pete's sake. Ladies, if the worst thing you have to worry about is whether or not your armpits are attractive, you have a pretty good life.

I don't pay much attention to advertising any more, especially ads for cures for erectile dysfunction, ambulance-chasing law firms, and candidates for political office (who need those cures for erectile dysfunction so they can better screw the voters once in office). Neither should you.

Have a good day. Ladies, don't worry about the sleeveless dresses - I promise not to criticize your armpits. More thoughts - unrelated to armpit hygiene - tomorrow.

Bilbo

* By the way, there are actually websites out there dedicated to celebrity armpits. Don't ask me how I know.

B.

For Sale* ...

One dysfunctional government, hardly used. Includes:

- 535 bickering, self-important personnel;

- Large roll of heavy-duty string for convenient attachment to corporate sponsors;

- Complete, taxpayer-funded support staff;

- Campaign financing provided by special interests (accounting not required);

- Operating instructions (seldom read and little understood);

- Multiple entrances: front door for lobbyists and special interests; back door for individual constituents and annoying Real People. Separate revolving side door reserved for staff members hired from or departing to professional lobby organizations.

As is. No warranty offered or implied.

No refunds. We can't help it if you don't think through the consequences before you buy.

Exchange possible only on completion of contract (two years for the House; six years for the Senate).

Must sell - can only be operated properly by large corporations, the wealthy, and the politically well-connected ... current (at least, on paper) owners unable to do anything with it.

Good luck.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* Image courtesy of Miss Cellania.

Valentine's Day

If you read yesterday's post, you already know my opinion of Valentine's Day - it's an anti-male conspiracy launched by a sinister cabal of florists, jewelers, candy-makers, and greeting card printers to force men everywhere to spend money to stay on the right side of their ladies. If you're a guy, there's nothing in it for you except potential land mines: if you forget the day, you're doomed. If you buy the wrong gift, you're doomed. If you say the wrong thing, you're doomed. If you say the right thing, but your timing is off, you're doomed.

If you're a guy, there's no margin in Valentine's Day.

But why do we celebrate this day, anyhow?

There are at least three recorded St Valentines, all of them have some relation - however tenuous - to romantic love, and all of them were martyrs (no, not the you'll-get-72-virgins-in-paradise type, although that would be pretty appropriate for the day, eh?). I find the fact that they were all martyrs to be oddly appropriate, too.

In the year 1382, Geoffrey Chaucer wrote ""Parlement of Foules," in which he wrote:

"For this was sent on Seynt Valentyne's day

Whan every foul cometh ther to choose his mate."

If you can get past his spelling (which is about as good as most of that you find on the Internet today), you can see that he thinks this time in February was the time birds chose their mates ... and, by extension, people should, too. It seems to me that February, when the weather is still cold and miserable on most days, is much less conducive to love than the warm days of May or June, but what do I know?

In 1929, Chicago gangster Alphonse ("Al") Capone celebrated the day by eliminating seven rival gangsters in the notorious St Valentine's Day Massacre. When told before the event of the number of men who might have to be killed, his response was said to have been "I'll send flowers."

When I was doing my radio show ("The Audio Attic") on WEBR, I did an annual "Anti-Valentine's Day" program that consistently got my highest listenership stats. It was dedicated to peeling away the sugary curtain and exposing the truth behind Valentine's Day - two hours of songs dedicated to heartbreak, divorce, misery, two-timing, and all that other stuff we tend to forget about while besotted by love. One of my favorite anti-Valentine's Day songs was Joan Jett's "I Hate Myself for Loving You." Nobody could wear leather like Joan Jett ...

So, men, it's Valentine's Day, and you're stuck. The best you can do is buy some flowers: according to a study done by Rutgers University in 2005, flowers bring a smile to a woman's face in a way candy, fruit, and candles did not.

Of course, expensive jewelry brings an even bigger smile, but I think I could just do with the grin for return on investment.

Ladies, treat your men right. After all, they're under a lot of pressure today.

Have a good day. Men, send some flowers to your beloved. Or to your wife, if you're so inclined.

More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Universal Translator, Part 2

Yesterday we talked about the concept of a Star Trek-style universal translator, and since such a device doesn't yet exist I offered you some helpful translations of how men and women understand the same words in different ways.

Here's another set of translations to help you out. If you are one of those people who has ever tried to picture a person from their self-generated descriptions in "In Search Of" ads or on dating websites, here's what they're really saying. On the left is what they wrote; on the right is what the reality is. Ladies first...

40-ish	48
Adventurer	Has had more partners than you ever will
Athletic	Flat-chested
Average looking	Ugly
Beautiful	Pathological liar
Contagious Smile	Bring your penicillin
Educated	College dropout
Emotionally Secure	Medicated
Feminist	Fat; ball buster
Free spirit	Substance user
Friendship first	Trying to live down reputation as slut
Fun	Annoying
Gentle	Comatose
Good Listener	Borderline Autistic
New-Age	All body hair, all the time
Old-fashioned	Lights out, missionary position only
Open-minded	Desperate
Outgoing	Loud
Passionate	Loud
Poet	Depressive Schzophrenic
Professional	Real Witch
Redhead	Shops the Clairol section
Reubenesque	Grossly Fat
Romantic	Looks better by candle light
Voluptuous	Very Fat
Weight proportional to height	Hugely Fat
Wants Soulmate	One step away from stalking
Widow	Nagged first husband to death
Young at heart	Toothless crone

And now for the men ...

40-ish	52 and looking for 25-yr-old
Athletic	Sits on the couch and watches ESPN
Average looking	Unusual hair growth on ears, nose, & back
Educated	Will always treat you like an idiot
Free Spirit	Sleeps with your sister
Friendship first	As long as friendship involves nudity
Fun	Good with a remote and a six pack
Good looking	Arrogant
Honest	Pathological Liar
Huggable	Overweight, more body hair than a bear
Like to cuddle	Insecure, overly dependent
Mature	Until you get to know him
Open-minded	Wants to sleep with your sister but she's not interested
Physically fit	I spend a lot of time in front of mirror admiring myself
Poet	Has written on a bathroom stall
Spiritual	Once went to church with his grandmother on Easter Sunday
Stable	Occasional stalker, but never arrested
Thoughtful	Says "Please" when demanding a beer

Any additions? Put them into the comments.

Have a good day. Read between the lines. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

Health Care Reform Explained

One of the great legislative triumphs (and I use the word advisedly) of the recent past was President Obama's overhaul of the nation's health care system. It was a resounding success, offering something for everyone: Republicans love it because it gives them something on which to focus their hatred of the administration, Democrats hate it because it doesn't provide free health care for everyone, insurance companies love it because it forces everyone to buy insurance, lawyers love it because it offers exciting new vistas for lucrative litigation, pharmaceutical companies love it because they can sell more drugs, lobbyists love it because it gives them endless opportunities to make money lobbying both for and against, and Real People trying to get well are baffled by the whole thing.

If you, Dear Reader, are one of those folks being intellectually whipsawed by "experts" on both sides of the argument, and have to decide whether to eat, pay your mortgage, or buy the health care you need, here are a few frequently-asked questions and answers that will help you make sense of the whole thing:

What does HMO stand for?

This is actually a variation of the phrase, "Hey, Moe!" Its roots go back to a concept pioneered by Doctor Moe Howard, who discovered that a patient could be made to forget about the pain in his foot if he was poked hard enough in the eyes. Modern practice replaces the physical finger poke with hi-tech equivalents such as voice mail and referral slips, but the result remains the same.

Do all diagnostic procedures require pre-certification?

No. Only those you need.

I just joined a new HMO. Can I choose the doctor I want?

Of course! Your insurer will provide you with a book listing all the doctors who were participating in the plan at the time the information was gathered. These doctors basically fall into two categories: those who are no longer accepting new patients, and those who will see you but are no longer part of the plan. Fortunately, the new law requires the remaining doctor who is still in the plan and accepting new patients to have an office no more than a half day's drive from the nearest town named for a Nobel Prize-winning Czech agronomist.

What is a "pre-existing condition?"

A grammatically elegant obfuscation used by insurance companies to designate things they don't want to pay for.

Can I get coverage for my pre-existing conditions?

Certainly, as long as they don't require any treatment.

What happens if I want to try alternative forms of medicine?

You'll need to find alternative forms of payment.

My prescription drug plan only covers generic drugs, but I need the name brand. I tried the generic medication, but it gave me a stomach ache. What should I do?

Poke yourself in the eye.

I have an 80/20 plan with a $200 deductible and a $2,000 yearly cap. My insurer reimbursed the doctor for my out-patient surgery, but I'd already paid my bill. What should I do?

You have two choices: ask your doctor to sign the reimbursement check over to you, or wait until death from old age intervenes while you wait for the doctor to deposit the check, wait for it to clear, write you a new check (less processing fees), and deliver it by the slowest possible method.

What should I do if I get sick while traveling?

Try sitting in a different part of the bus.

No, I mean what if I'm away from home and I get sick?

You really shouldn't do that, because you'll have a hard time seeing your primary care physician. It's best to wait until you return, and then get sick.

I think I need to see a specialist, but my doctor insists he can handle my problem. Can a general practitioner really perform a heart transplant right in his office?

It's difficult to say, but considering that all you're risking is the $550 co-pay, there's no harm in letting him take a shot at it.

What accounts for the largest portion of health care costs?

It's a tie between doctors trying to recoup their investment losses and lawyers buying television air time to advertise their ability to sue on your behalf for diseases you never heard of.

Will health care be any different in the next decade?

No, but if you call right now, you might get an appointment by then.

I hope this helps. In the meantime, get ready for the non-anesthetized colonoscopy you're about to get from the new Congress. Good luck with all that.

Have a good day. Don't get sick.

More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

New Car Blues

Now that Christmas is over it's time to go back to work and start saving up for our next major purchase...a new car.

Both of our cars have long been paid off, and given the cost of new (and even decent used) cars, not having a car payment is a wonderful thing. Unfortunately, we have one car that's pretty much inert and another that has all the winter road traction of Vaseline on waxed paper, and so we're grudgingly starting to think about the horrifying possibility of a new vehicle.

The absolute cost of the car is only the tip of the economic iceberg, though. By the time the dealer gets done tacking on all the destination charges, transportation charges, preparation charges, delivery charges, surcharges, cavalry charges, and overcharges; the governor takes his cut via sales tax and personal property tax; the DMV takes a slice with registration fees; and the insurance company gleefully calculates its premiums, that $34,000 car ends up costing about $497,000 and change. Jerry Reed said it well ...

All of which brings me to this helpful guide to automotive acronyms that has been compiled by the incomparable Miss Cellania:

BMW - Big Money Waste

BUICK - Big Ugly Indestructible Compact Killer

CHEVROLET - Can Hear Every Valve Rattle On Long Extended Trips

CHEVY - Cheapest Heap Ever Visioned Yet

DODGE - Drips Oil Drops Grease Everywhere

FIAT - Fix It Again Tomorrow

FORD - Found On Road Dead

GM - Grinding Metal

GMC - Got Mechanic Coming

HONDA - Hold On, Not Done Accelerating

JEEP - Just Enough Engine Power

KIA - Killed In Action

MAZDA - Made At Zoo by Demented Apes

MG - Mostly Garaged

OLDSMOBILE - Old Ladies Driving Slowly Making Others Behind Increasingly Late Everyday

PINTO - Powerful Incendiary, Neatly Toasts Occupants

PLYMOUTH - Please Let Your Mother Out from Under The Hood

PONTIAC - Poor Old Nebraskan, Thinks It's A Cadillac

PORSCHE - Piece Of Rusty Scrap, Cost Highly Expensive

SUBARU - Still Usable But All Rusty Underneath

TOYOTA - The One You Ought To Avoid

VW - Virtually Worthless

We're going to put off the agony as long as possible, but sooner or later I'll have to grit my teeth and turn Agnes loose on some unsuspecting salesman. She's a much better negotiator than I am. A long time ago we were looking for a new car for her (emphasis on the "looking" part), and at one of the dealerships we visited a hyperaggressive salesman latched onto us and just couldn't get the message that we weren't going to buy anything that day. He pushed and prodded and badgered us so much that by the time we finally walked out in disgust, he could have offered to give us the car, pay the insurance, throw in lifetime gas, service, and detailing, hire a chauffeur, and build a new, climate-controlled garage for us to keep it in, and Agnes would still have still told him to go to hell.

I wish I could be like that, but it's just one more reason I'm lucky to have her.

Stay tuned for more of the ongoing car search agony.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo