Kickass and the junkyard car


Kickass, the doorstop dog, reports the keeper’s visit to Schmidt’s auto salvage yard where he wandered the clutter trails in search of parts for his 2001 Blazer that has become his symbol of victory over the cursed automotive industry.  He found some used tires and a water-logged owner’s manual; and he came away feeling as if he had won an Olympic medal.  It takes so little to make him happy, and he is more or less ignoring the fact that his $300 vehicle is now somewhere up in the neighborhood of  $1700 given recent parts and repairs.  But it goes down the road, the AC works, and it will be only a matter of time before he learns how to tune the radio.  There is that sagging passenger-side door, but that is fixable: repining, it’s called.  A serious feeling of superiority is developing with the keeper as he eyeballs other drivers in their $50,000 rides at the traffic signals and thinks to himself: “You poor bastards.  You’ve been had by the creditors and the car sellers.”

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