We're on the road to nowhere....

Meet Ron

This:

is Ron.

Ron is mine.

Ron is a 1989 Nissan Pathfinder 4x4, Manual five speed transmission with 125,000 miles, a 12 disc Pioneer CD changer, moonroof, cruise, kickass A/C, four new oversize tires and, like most other things I own, it fell into my lap quite unexpectedly.

Ron came from a good home. He originally belonged to a lawyer who lived in one of the finer parts of the city. This lawyer never used the 4x4. Chances are high that I won't either, but chaces are high that I'll run the son of a bitch harder than a lawyer. Yes. I am generalizing about lawyers. Doesn't matter.

This morning dad decided he'd load my van up with trash from the basement while I was sleeping. This is the first time he'd driven it in a while, so he was completely unaware of how completely assed-out it was. Upon driving it, he made the decision that it was not fit to drive. I had made the same decision long ago, but kept driving it anyway, as it was all I had to drive. Beggars can't be choosers. On his way home dad spotted Ron on the side of the road. Stopped. Looked at him. Came home, picked me up, dad and I went and looked at Ron together. I called the number on the windshield using my God Damn Cell Phone. Man came, I test drove. Fucking awesome vehicle. Dad and I came back to the house. Dad whipped out his check book. The deal was made. Dad would buy it, company would pay him back. This is a company vehicle. Not mine. A company vehicle. All the same, I drive the son of a bitch. We went back and paid for it. Got the title and bill of sale from him later. This took less than an hour.

Ron is amazingly clean and drives very well for a vehicle of his age, but he's far from perfect. Ron's an '89 -- 14 years old. Pretty fucking old. All the same, Ron drives like a champ. I heard some pops when I hit a bump while on the test drive which tells me that replacing the shocks might be in order, but that's okay -- it's easily done. There's also a large hole that looks like it was burned into the upholstry in the passenger's seat, possibly with a cigarette. This is the ONLY problem with the interior. One of the running lights has been cracked, and I found a dent near the windshield where it looks like something slammed down on the vehicle pretty hard, but it's hardly noticeable if you're not looking for it. Finally, you can't unlock the passenger's side door from the outside with the key. Lock's busted. But all of these problems are small complaints at the price we got it for.

I've named the Pathfinder Ron because when the owner handed me the key it was attached to a dogtag. Engraved on that dogtag was simply the name "Ron." Well shit! Who am I to argue with this?! This is evidently the vehicle's name! Right! Ron the Nissan. Makes sense to me.

Now then. I need to think of ways to personalize it. Tags, and whatnot. I'm glad I have Ron. Now I have a decent vehicle to litter with stickers.

Finally, this is an example of my dad's sense of humor. Neighborhood dogs drag up deer antlers and leave them in our yard. This is a truth. We don't know where they get them. We just know that this happens once or twice a week. Full racks of deer antlers. Dad picks them up and puts them in trees. Every tree in our yard has a set of deer antlers now. In fact, we've got too many. Dogs have also brought us a hard hat. I saw dad standing in the yard with this hard hat and a set of antlers in his hands, putting them together, evidently thinking of a way to glue or staple the antlers to the hard hat in a way that he could wear them. I actually thought that was a good idea. If he doesn't go through with it, I might do it. It might be a part of a halloween costume.

In any case, anyone wanna take a shot at guessing which Coen Brothers character I thought of the first time I saw a pair of antlers in a tree? First one to get it right gets a prize. Maybe a Furby.