Unexpected Keys to Happiness

It's no surprise that I've lived my life wrong. If we consider getting better things, having better things, eating the best food, and having a manageable life success, I've failed on all counts. If I were a Sim or a character in a video game, I'd finish the game just about exactly where I started.

I'm not complaining, mind you. It's just that it took me beyond halfway through my life to see all the attitudes I should have adopted early on.

Like being sentimental, for instance.

I'm not sure how to change that, and at first blush it would seem to be a pretty rewarding thing. Looking at pictures or copies of old cards and correspondence invariably causes my heart to pause, get a wee bit warmer, and cause me to either sigh or wince. The trouble is, I tend to save everything that causes these reactions, which means I have tons of stuff that has no practical value.

I think the truly happy people maintain their possessions at a decent number. They have memories they can pull up without the need for any sort of physical prompt, and, while I guess I do, too, maybe I don't rely on my ability to do that as much as I should.

Maybe it's like most other things and comes with practice.

Imagine My Disappointment

I have no idea how long the last car cover lasted, but it didn't make through this year. I got it for the car before the one I have now, so I imagine I got my money's worth. A simple, unlined car cover, however, will eventually disintegrate after a few years of absorbing dew and rain, but I wonder if my spraying it with some camping version of Scotchguard contributed to its demise.

In any case, the old one began shedding pieces like a mangy bear, so I looked all over the Internet and ordered a new one. It arrived just in time for the next rain, too, so my timing couldn't have been better. It is, of course, too long by about a foot to properly fit my car, but it's the shortest car cover I was able to find. It has a distinctive inside and outside, the inside being covered with what reminds me of the world's thinnest Saran wrap, but I'm happy with it so far.

Nonetheless, there are a few things about it that sadden me. One, it came with what's titled a "User's Manual," complete with accurately placed apostrophe. On the down side, this manual is, in fact, no more than a single sheet of paper with printing restricted to one single side. The paper itself is thick and glossy, so maybe that counts for something, and the writing on it is broken down into five bulleted and bolded categories:

Before Using This Cover
Installation
Cleaning and Care
Important Safety Information
Caution

I'd guess there's, maybe, 200 words, total on the whole thing, and only two typos.

The manual warns me about thoughtlessly using the cover on vehicles with sharp bumpers, hood ornaments, or molding and mentions more than once that I should be careful if the tailpipes are hot. Other than that, very little useful information, although it's good to know I can wash the entire thing at a Laundromat (their capitalization) that has a commercial unit without an agitator.

The saddest thing about this purchase, however, isn't that they didn't include bungee cords to prevent ballooning, it's that the big box the cover came in didn't have a catalog. There was the user's manual, a length of string, and the car cover itself, enclosed in a bag of car cover material and fastened with a strap that resembled a dog harness. But, no catalog to entice me into buying more goods.

Not every company, of course, has a catalog that you can peruse at home for hours on end, but one of the reasons I got this particular car cover is that it came from ... you guessed it ... JC Whitney. I hadn't thought about them for years and was overjoyed to see that they were still in business, but I was really hoping to look through one of their catalogs again. I can't tell you how many hours of my youth I, and just about every guy I knew, wasted on looking through JC Whitney catalogs, planning and imagining using one of their products on our cars.

It wasn't just the steering wheel knobs, either, that captured our fancy. I don't think any guy, ever, was unaffected by the thought of an exhaust system dropoff (not for use on streets). Imagine having a chain-operated device you could operate from inside the car that would disengage everything from the exhaust manifold on back! How noisy! How powerful! How much fun!

But no catalog. I guess I could go back to their site and order or buy one, but if they'd included one with my purchase I'd rate them A++++ ... would buy again!