The Old Coot drives a Buick?

I’m driving a Buick. My first one. I don’t know what’s become of me. I shunned Buicks. And Oldsmobile’s, Dodges, DeSoto’s, Cadillac’s all my life. A younger me, associated these sedans with boring, conservative, older people (older than me at the time anyhow). I opted for VW Bugs, VW Busses, MG’s, Chevy’s and Fords. As I grew closer to old coot age, I turned to Isuzu Troopers, Miata’s and Jeeps (young people’s cars). 

Now I’m wheeling around in a Buick. It’s seven years old, but it’s still a Buick. I have no shame; I’m old and accept it. And now prove it in my Buick. The word “Buick” was a joke when I belonged to a younger crowd. If someone was sick during the night, especially from overindulging, they would report, “I was a Buick salesman last night.”  

That’s what it sounds like when you are on your knees hugging the terlit and spilling your stomach contents. Buick! Buick! Buick! Now, I’m the joke. Not on my knees saying the word Buick, but driving around in one.

If I’ve offended any young Buick owners, I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t be driving around in a Buick. You should get yourself a Jeep Wrangler or something impractical like that and get a Buick when you become a dinosaur. 

Switching to a Buick isn’t the only adjustment I’ve made on this adventure into the land of the aged. Last year I had to switch to a girl’s bike, so I could get off without tipping over, and doing a perfect imitation of a newborn colt, standing on his legs for the first time, as I tried to get up off the ground. I kept catching my foot on the seat and proved incapable of remembering to allow for it. 

Now, I’m not sure even that girl’s bike will work for me in the long haul. I’ve been thinking about getting a three-wheel bike. A “Buick” to the cycling world. Anyhow, they are hard to find and I don’t want to invest another wad of cash like I did last year, experimenting with the girl’s bike. If you have a reasonably priced three-wheeler you want to get rid of, drop me a line (

Meanwhile, I’m tooling around in my Buick, waiting for summer weather. It’s loaded: heated seats, remote starter, heated steering wheel, power seat with memory, Bluetooth and all the rest of modern automobile gadgetry. Things you don’t find in a Jeep Wrangler unless you are willing to spend real big bucks. When the weather finally warms up, I’ll test my skills on the two-wheel girl’s bike, then it’s onward and upward. Up the next rung on the old coot ladder. 

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