Fellow fiends:
For the mystics on the list, consider the following:
A summer's dawn (!) wherein the golden rays of the sun sent beams of
yellow-glow through the dissipating morning mists. I was there! I was
there! In the parking lot at work this morning, I collected my thoughts,
trying to restore a modicum of composure to my wind-tousled hair as I shut
the engine off and watched the oil preasure gauge return to its rest. I
unlatched my seatbelt, stepped out of the car, shut the door, and zipped up
the tonneau. As I walked away I could smell the car's metal-music perfume
diffuse into the air, a ruddy mix of exhaust and oil and heat. In the
middle distance I heard the cacophany of three auto alarms (who ever said a
hospital is supposed to be a quiet zone?).
Then it came to me: the eleventh insight... MGs are cool... I disolved in
a prismatic beam of light!
God, I love this car.
Will "God, he loves that car" Zehring
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