My mother called from the wrecking yard

I will begin this entry by making the observation that my mom is awesome. Really. In terms of helping me out, assisting me in life, doing nice things for me, my mother is up there with the saints.

To preface this story, one should know my mom excels in doing projects. She's great at planning things (she plans international travel, weddings, parties, etc.), sewing (I am short, so I always need things hemmed, Halloween costumes), fixing stuff (she completely re-wired my espresso machine a few years ago that I accidentally placed on an electric stovetop burner), etc. Her latest project is one I am quite excited about. Currently, my mother is putting in an A++ effort to fix up the car I had in high school. For the last 8 years, this vehicle, a 1989 Volkswagen Fox, has been in the possession of my older sister, and, most recently, my younger step-brother Brian. Needless to say, the car isn't exactly in the pristine condition I left it so many years ago. Nevertheless, my mother in enthusiastic about fixing it up and driving it down here to the Bay Area for a reunion with its original owner. So far, she's replaced the clutch, several belts, the windshield, and some other smaller bits and pieces that required a visit to the local Portland wrecking yard.

On Saturday, my cell phone rang and it was my mother. She reported to be at wrecking yard casing out defunct Volkswagen Foxes for parts (rear lights, door moulding, door releases, etc). She was very excited - she loves the wrecking yard because it's like a treasure hunt of sorts. Plus, she gets to use tools and rip apart cars as well as talk to roughneck wrecking yard employees. Sounds like fun to me. Anyway, this sounded great and everything, but to be quite honest, I felt a little left out. I felt like I should be at that wrecking yard with her to have this experience, too. After all, I really doubt I will ever go to one myself on my own volition. In this day and age, I would probably find it easier to pay someone to go find that '89 VW Fox door moulding part I need. Or, more likely, just sell the car and get something better.

It's like a dream deferred, I guess. My wrecking yard curiosities will go unresolved for now.