Not so bad, after all.

All this talk of cars and public transportation ...

Somewhere between leaving the Pizzeria & Pub and reaching I-65, the Volvo sprung a coolant leak, the arrow pointed red, steam hissed out the hood, and we pulled off at Kopp Lane and Eastern Boulevard to phone in a Ken Towery strike.

My first reaction was joy at having decided earlier not to make the drive to Bloomington today. How far would we have gotten before the antifreeze began spewing, and which cow would have cared?

The tow truck took a bit, and then the mechanics informed us they didn't have the proper adapter for the pressure test. We eventually took a Checker Cab home, and looked back on two hours utterly lost.

Funny thing is, it was fairly funny throughout. The tow truck driver was a rare wit, explaining how much he loves his job even when towing repos at 2 a.m. We had a great chat with the fellows at Towery's, including up-to-date accounts of their parents' holiday choices. And, the cabbie was vastly entertaining as he reminisced about the hurricane in 2008, when he and the preacher across the street watched a tree fall atop a neighbor's car.

Today's posting has no real meaning, other than to observe that an ability to laugh at the ludicrousness of a situation is perhaps the best way to skate through it. We'll now go back to walking -- to the Parish Green, and then to Bank Street for a Progressive Pint with my cousins. Life is a pain in the ass. It's also quite enjoyable at times.