Glamorous Guzzlers

The temperature climbed into the sixty's today  I'm not sure if it matched the all time record of sixty-five for this day in this part of the planet but I'll find out when the local weatherman announces it at 6:16 PM.  I can trust the weatherman more than I trust the rusty thermometer that hangs in the shaded area under the eaves.  It can be seen from the kitchen window (as long as you raise the blinds-Yea!) but in that location it probably is affected by radiation that flows from the wall when the sun is shining on it. 

I've never really understood where a thermometer should be placed so it will read 64 degrees when the temperature actually is 64 degrees.  Our out door thermometer will vaguely indicate the difference between 45 and 55 degrees but you'll never catch me betting real money on what it says.  I've learned better.  The one inside the house performs much more accurately.  I wonder why that is?  It's one of those mysteries of life that I think about every now and again, and at times it makes me believe what Plato had to say about "Forms."  Ya know, the thermometer hanging from my eave is just a shadow of the "Form" of a thermometer and cannot, therefore, ever be a real one.  If what he said is true, I should never expect it to tell me what the temperature is.  And, just maybe, the one inside the house is a darker shadow of the true form?  I feel better already.

None the less, it was warm today and the Guzzlers needed to be cleaned.  That, if ever I heard one, is the perfect excuse to get out and play in the sun.  I said to Carolyn, with anguish in my voice, "Sweetheart, the cars need to be cleaned.  I better go out and take care of it while it's not too cold."  Now you and I know I wanted to play in the sun anyway, but with that preamble she thinks I'm actually working!  Sweet! 

So I spent the better part of two hours removing all the litter that comes from somewhere and makes it into our cars.  We never leave trash in the car.  We remove and toss the trash into the proper recycling receptacle soon as we exit. I don't know where the stuff I'm always finding in the beasts comes from.  Another of life's mysteries that makes me think of something Plato........never mind. 

After removing the chunkier whatever-they-were pieces of trash I vacuumed and then wiped the interiors of both of them.  Then off to the automated car wash where for 6 bucks apiece a robot washed and wiped the exterior.  What ever happened to the places where you'd drive in, turn the keys over to whoever had the clipboard, walk inside and have a free cup of coffee while you watched an ARMY of guys armed with towels, brushes and squeeze bottles of soap solution attack the dirt on your car?  That was a lot more fun than just sitting in the car while a monster machine squirts and wheezes.  Anyway, after it's all over, even though a robot performed the duties,  it feels good to drive a clean Guzzler.  Makes me want to sweep the sidewalk or something.

If tomorrow is as nice as today was, I just might tackle that job.  With real anguish in my voice I'll tell Carolyn, "Sweetheart, there's dirt on the sidewalk."    Ya think I'll get away with it two days in a row?