A couple of weeks ago we had a fine experience having the Tacoma serviced in Pueblo but unfortunately the next time the truck was fired up various trouble lights, extraneous and otherwise, appeared.  L. immediately called the dealer, who on a Saturday proved way less than helpful so had to call back Monday to get the soonest possible appointment.  The manager promised that if it was their fault they’d waive the $120 diagnostic fee so ten days later we

were on our way back to Toyota to endure a three-to-four hour wait as the guy at the desk

was giving preferential treatment to a seemingly unending line of recalls. Waiting outside in the parking lot I observed a puny little dude in a grubby “JESUS” T-shirt – I wasn’t able to read the full text but given the gun he was packing it could well have been “who would JESUS shoot?” –

lower himself down from a 4×4 Ford and slouch into the showroom to mingle with the multitudinous maskedless minions of Toyota’s Sales God.  We hoped he wouldn’t become inspired to become an active shooter in there before we received the Word from the Manager

that our investment in digital technology had turned up a small cut in a wire that was, even though the hood hadn’t been opened from the time it was serviced until the warning lights lit up and “Not a rodent”, not their responsibility.  The wire took another half hour to splice which got us out of there in under four hours for $240.00, mid-lunch.  Their strategy is transparently

to hang a person up for so long that they’ll pay anything to escape, even if the customer [who is never right] feels lied to and ripped off.  Of course, $120.00 to splice one wire is a whole other story…ripped OFF ??  The remainder of our Pueblo tasks went quickly, allowing us to exit Abriendo at the sign advertising “Used Veichles For Sale” before two, reach home by three, greet three desperate dogs, unload and collapse.  Both of us felt inexplicably dizzy that evening from…three and a half hours of parking lot?

Next day Customer Service called to inquire how much fun our visit had been and when L said it wasn’t much fun at all connected her to “a manager”, the same shithead she’d had to deal with from the beginning who provided an arrogant answer or accusation for everything including [but not limited to] “Why didn’t you bring it in right away?” despite the fact that HE set up that ten day out appointment. It’s obvious their [or his] performances are evaluated solely on how much people can be gouged rather than how well-treated customers might feel so bye bye…which is not to imply that Pueblo Toyota is atypical; if my [limited] New Car Experience

is any indication it seems at a certain point in the life of one’s veichle ALL dealerships slide into sloppy service, hoping you’ll come around to the front as things fall expensively apart and buy a Brand New One. I had a potentially life-threatening experience courtesy of the [very!] last time I took my Tundra to the dealer in Vallejo but fortunately an observant local mechanic subsequently noticed that one of the front struts, on which they had just perpetrated a spendy but gratuitous repair, was about to shear off and replaced it before a fatality occurred.*

Thus the week of the stovepipe, Toyota, puppies’ trip to the vet for their shots

and a morning [and then some] spent topping off our water slid past as the environs,

populated by Large Breed Puppies, become ever more decimated…or redecorated.

After sorting us out on the water Bill, with Muriel inexplicably choosing Labor Day as the day

to set off across the West, left for California.  About then our fall light got yellower, the nose stuffier and the mountains less visible…ninety-five degrees some days, eighties in the house;

not the old normal, that’s for sure, and more smoke more often than ever.

As the weather changed the studio theme music transitioned from Paul Bowles to Morton

Feldman until we were suddenly, out of a blue [well, brown] sky, plunged without warning

into a winner wunterlant…which inspired yet another shift, this time to Terje Rypdal…

Nonetheless we’re not having anything like the apocalypse unfolding out on the coast; images trickled in all day, looking like nothing so much as the weather in “Blade Runner 2049”.

Come to think of it that woefully underappreciated atmospheric film, encompassing murk, smoke, dust and a lot of gratuitous water, DID end in snow falling…

*I’m happy to report that despite several “incidents”, mostly solo, I have not yet experienced a fatal automobile accident.