IT DRIVES ME CRAZY

Now, I'm not going to pretend my car is my prize possession, pride and joy, or anything more than what it is: my car. Living in SoCal, as I do, having a car is important. Expensive at times, but important.

My car isn't a status symbol, like an S.U.V., classic car or luxury automobile. And it isn't a social statement, like those hybrid things.

I like my ride just fine, but I'm not obsessed with it -- a little ding in the door after my trip to the mall? No sweat.

I wash it regularly, change the oil every 3 months and make sure to fill 'er up with gas before I hit the 1/4 tank level. I even carry window cleaner and paper towels in the trunk, so I'll always have a clear view of the road (safety first, after all).

But I never realized how attached I was until last week... when some jerk-offs tried to steal it. The police say it was one of five cars in my area that were broken into. They tried to jack my stereo, but only ended up breaking it. My heart sank, as I looked at my poor, violated dashboard. And then, something caught my eye: the ignition core was missing. Gone.

I won't launch into how much this sucks, or how lame my insurance provider is acting. I won't complain about how long it is taking to fix, or how much it is going to cost. (Cause I just have all this extra cash to go out and get me a new car, y'know!) I'm not going to bitch the luck I've been having this year, and you won't see me feeling sorry for myself, not even for a minute.

"See, the luck I've had, can make a good man turn bad..."

But I have to write about something...