Dear Abby~
As you know, 'M' and I have been having a lot of problems over the last two
years. She's had quite a few health issues after rising from her 20-year coma
and moving east to upstate New York. We're all past that now, but something
more ominous is looking. For the last two weeks, her behavior is, well, giving
me great concerns for her mental state. With all the problems she's been
having, she should be taking it a little easy, but that isn't the case.
When she starts in the morning, it isn't the usual churning and steam rising
through the louvres from the starter. It's one or two turns and VeROOOM. If
I'm not careful, the tach races to 2000. She's acting like a teenager. To calm
her down a bit, I take her the back way to work over the old Dutch farm route,
with those ridiculously tight, reversed banked chicanes, hoping she'lll just
quite down and act her age. But no, she has a mind of her own, and just guns
it like some 90's something hopped on nitro.
We enter town after the little run, and all she does is embarrass me. At each
stoplight she pulls my foot down against the accelerator, leaving me no choice
but to pretend I'm enjoing it. Every time she sees a younger model, she races
ahead part of the block until I can get her back line. I think she must have
had quite a different life in Southern California, but I just don't feel
comfortable asking about her past.
I've tried everything from placating her insatiable demand for advancing the
spark, guzzling high octane gas (I even gave into a tank of racing fuel hoping
she'd get it of her system!). I even resorted to pulling that stupid sports
coil with the white plastic and replacing it with a more appropriate dowdy
Lucas stock coil dated 12-55, hoping it would remind her of age. Dou you think
she come to her senses? Absolutely not! She had some mystery mechanic throw in
an MSD-6 under the passenger foot box, thinking I wouldn't notice.
I've gone the other route, depriving her of basic respect -- leaving her in a
haybarn at night, not putting her top up when it start's to sprinkle. Nothing,
I mean nothing, seems to daunt her.
Jean also notices it. When we go around corners climbing the Berkshire hills,
M sudden will dart ahead around hairpins, forcingJean for the sissy handle.
She's incorrigible. It's getting so bad, she won't even think of a simple
evening drive without the windscreen is down.
Personally, I think she's acting out a bit because she's going to turn 50 in
October. It's happened to others. Or maybe it's not just mid-life crisis but
something more serious; perhaps Althzeimer's. It almost seems the only thing
she remembers is that test drive at Warwick the week she left for America. I
don't know.
Any advice will be welcome. We can keep going like this. What should we do?
Allen
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