What made me happy today?

My wife needs a van she can drive into on her powered wheelchair. What she needs, she gets. I'm picking up a converted Chrysler Pacifica minivan with a built in ramp this Tuesday.

Unfortunately, her current ride, a stock Pacifica, isn't a good candidate for trade-in because of repair history. It's OK. We're keeping it.

Which means we're going to be a two minivan family.

I'm thinking the same thing you are - we're our own minivan gang.

Our gang will be like a biker gang, except better. For one thing, we'll have minivans instead of Harleys. And the jackets? No dull leather for us - corduroy. And pocket protectors for the OG founding members.

On a more practical note, there's one thing about minivans that makes them better than anything else I've ever driven, including the Camaro I had for a while.

On our Pacifica, the seats fold into wells in the floor. Fold the middle row seats away and you have a nearly flat deck.

The third row seat is spacious. There's a convenient 110 volt outlet back there. Open the side doors for great ventilation and with the middle row seats gone there is massive legroom. A folding "C" table serves as a work surface for my laptop.

It's like what the Lincoln Lawyer wishes he had.

Sports cars are nice. Muscle cars are cool. A writing studio on wheels, that's awesome.
 
I did not go to work today because of the cold. The first time ever in almost 50 years. It was below zero here today with the windchill at 31 below zero. I claim to be semi retired, which is really a lie. I am down to 60 hours a week which I tell my wife makes me semi retired. I enjoy what I do, but today I was very happy to not be doing it. I do feel guilty, but I am happy.
 
Our gang will be like a biker gang, except better. For one thing, we'll have minivans instead of Harleys. And the jackets? No dull leather for us - corduroy. And pocket protectors for the OG founding members.

Instead of rallies at Sturgis and Dayton, you can rumble at the Waffle House in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania or the city park in Oglalla, Nebraska.
 
Instead of rallies at Sturgis and Dayton, you can rumble at the Waffle House in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania or the city park in Oglalla, Nebraska.
Great idea - so much better than conference calls!

You might think, given the current state of minivan gangs, the Waffle House would be humbling. "As you can see from my ride, I'm with a minivan gang. So, um, well... Table for one, please."

Then - wait for it - the pity perks.

"Oh, bless your heart. Would a complimentary slice of triple chocolate pie help?"

Heh, heh, heh. And they all thought senescence had claimed my reason!

My son, though. My son in whom I've invested all my hopes. On discovering we were getting a second Pacifica, his face registered shock. With a tone of horror I never wanted to inspire in him, he said, "You and Mom, both in Pacificas? You mean, like Ken and Barbie minivans?"

They say time heals all wounds. I'm skeptical.
 
I ate in a Waffle House once. It was tight quarters and the table tops were sticky- all that syrup, I guess.

To quote Jeff Foxworthy: If you've ever slept in a Waffle House, you might be a redneck.
 
I've never been to a Waffle House before, but if it's anything like Bill Hicks made it out to be in the 80s, I don't think I want to go.


May we never, ever have to be afraid to read a book in public.
 
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