Secret of the Universe

I feel like I’ve discovered the secret to the universe!

So, when I threw myself out last spring because I had decided to divorce Grimace, there were certain things to divide. Now, Grimace doesn’t have the income that I do, so in order to expedite certain things, I made some decisions that may not have been to my best financial interest. They were certainly to my best mental and emotional interest, but this is still paragraph one, and I’ve already digressed.

The FormerSpouse, while likely a perfectly decent individual, was not a participating member of our particular household. The puppies did more tidying up than did he. So, selling a house with him (including keeping everything spotless, the yard in excellent condition, and picking up after oneself) was going to be a MAJOR pill. To avoid having to do this, I sold the house to him for the balance of the loan instead of the value of the house. I didn’t ask for the equity from the house in the divorce settlement. In lieu of cash, I took his Mustang. (Just allow the joy of that moment wash over you. Heh.)

Selling the Mustang has been considerably less fun than taking it with me when I threw myself out. I’ve been putting it off since the moment everything was settled. Suddenly, with little or no effort on my part, it’s sold! The husband of VeryBestFriend was in the market for a play-car, and he and VeryBestFriend (VBF) decided to go for it!

Here’s where we come to the point of today’s entry. Well, we’re getting closer to the point, anyway.

My brother, Figgie Puddin’, whom I adore beyond reason, has been keeping an eye on this car for me for a few months. He’s had it parked in a garage downtown where he knows the attendant manager who has been watching out for it. (The Fig’s garage is full, and I live in an apartment, so this was the way to protect the car.) Before he parked it in the garage, he ran it into a curb. And flattened the tire. And ruined the rim. Goofball.

Anyway, VBF and hubby started the car-buying process with me on Sunday evening. I called the Fig Sunday night and told him to BE SURE TO have the car started (the battery had dwindled over the winter), out of the garage, very clean, and with a substantial substitute tire on it by Wednesday at 11:00 a.m. (VBF and hubby live two hours north of me, so either of them driving on a donut-spare-tire was not acceptable.) At 7:00 a.m. on Wednesday, my phone rings, and it’s The Fig informing me that he can’t keep the car running – the battery is just too dead. We had suspected this might happen, so I had given him my credit card the night before. I sent him to get a battery for it, so now it works fine; however, it still has the donut-tire. Not good.

Wednesday morning I spent far too much time on the phone calling around to try to make this all happen by noon. “I need a Mustang tire and wheel, and I need it by 11:00 this morning. Can you help me? Also, can you spot weld the muffler and tailpipe together?” Um, I have a DAY JOB that I needed to get to! So, I had to call VBF and hubby and tell them to give me another week. It was highly, highly frustrating.

Did The Fig have any idea where to get a substantive spare? Oh, certainly not. He had Monday and Tuesday off from work, but did he do any of that then? Oh, please.

The most frustrating portion of this story is the fact that I’ve KNOWN my brother for 34 years. I could easily have guessed that none of this would happen. Or, if it DID happen, it would be at four seconds to 11:00. But, hope springs eternal, and, silly me, I figured The Fig would come through for me. [NB: If I needed a kidney from my brother, I have no doubt whatsoever that he’d give it willingly – and in a timely manner!] Most everything else carries almost no value for him, though, and I could have predicted the delay. VBF’s hubby was really gracious, and agreed to pick up the car next week.

Oh, finally, a point.

Because I was SO frustrated, I called the folks. They know, understand, and love both The Fig and myself. I told them the whole sordid story, and then said to Dad, “It’s amazing how you’ll suspend reality to give the benefit of the doubt to someone you’re really crazy about.” He agreed.

Then I said, “I guess you guys learned way quicker than I did.”

“Noooooooooooooo,” he said. We laughed.

Then, it hit me! “THAT’S how people stay married for a lifetime! They are willing to suspend reality about someone they’re crazy about!”

Dad agreed. (He and Mom have been happily suspending reality for 39 years and one month.) Later, I talked to Mom about it, and we think I may have truly hit on something. If one person does something magical for your soul, you’re willing to totally overlook the fact that they have don’t know what a dirty clothes hamper is, that they constantly crack their knuckles, or have no idea how to do things earlier than the eleventh-and-three-quarters-hour.

While “brother” and “spouse/significant other” are not even close to the same thing, I thought you might enjoy learning how I discovered the secret to the universe. And sold the Mustang.