At the brake shop, need sleep

"That pad is worn, but that rotor is FUBAR."

I nod my head like I can tell what the dude is saying. I only understand the abbreviated cursing.

He goes on for a bit and begins telling me what each piece is going to cost individually. $30 for the brake pads, $40 for the rotor, $?? For the labor.

Not that the labor is a question, I just stopped paying attention. I only care that the final price isn’t going to go way the hell beyond what I thought I was going to pay.

I want the grinding to stop when I brake. It’s like riding in a car with an exterior made out of chalkboards.

Cost for job: A little over $100.

Fine.

Interesting what they put on the walls in these places.

A collection of 27 Illinois license plates. One goes back to 1926. In 1954, "Land of Lincoln" appeared on the plates. I know this because the owner conveniently put the 1953 and 1954 plates right next to each other. A major coup for the collection.

I wonder if they still put "Land of Lincoln" on. My guess is no, the trend nowadays is away from license plate slogans. This is of course proven by the New Mexicans’ insistence on putting "Land of Enchantment" on all their cars, and they tend to be about 30 years behind out there.
Hobbs, New Mexico – "Land of Enchantment."

George Carlin had a bit on license plates. New Hampshire’s slogan at the time was "Live Free or Die" whereas Idaho’s was "Famous Potatoes."

"Somewhere between those two, lies the truth," Carlin said. "And it’s probably closer to ‘Famous Potatoes.’"

The shop lobby has a big wooden cutout Christian fish sign. I’m wondering if any other religion ever advertises with its sign. A Star of David over a pizza place, a rainbow over a plumbing outfit, a fish thingy with feet for your atheist landscaping needs.

I drive over to the oil change place, called "Oasis Oil Change." I wouldn’t care so much if only the lobby offered something oasis-like, such as water.

I walk in as the radio is playing "Seven Spanish Angels," with Willie Nelson and Ray Charles.

The car goes into the garage.

After Seven Spanish Angels, the DJs mention that Ray Charles is blind, then spend the next three minutes talking about how they are going to get into trouble for mentioning that Ray Charles is blind.

"Cause, you know, you’re not supposed to have fun with that. You’re not supposed to notice that he wears sunglasses all the time. Ha! Ha! Oooohhh, I’m in trouble."

I recall a South Park episode that had a wacky chase scene of NAMBLA members running after 8-year-old boys. That caused barely a ripple. Somehow, in these United States, I think the Stephenville DJs will survive.

The oil is changed. (Or so they tell me.) I drive to get gas, a full tank for the first time in at least a month.

The grinding in my brakes has stopped, but the daily grind that is life goes on.*

*All lame endings will now be typed in italics. Thank you.