Used Cars, Planes, and The Jesus of Blenders

I lost a blender, which I’ll come back to. Before that, I lost a marriage.
Both were hard.

As a result of the latter, I regained my single status. Which I hadn’t planned for. I didn’t divorce because I wanted to be single. I divorced because we both knew we’d be happier apart. I don’t especially like being single.

Being single again after 27 years is like coming back to that old classic car that’s been more or less abandoned in the garage for, well, the last 27 years. It’s barely been started in decades. The paint is chipped. The upholstery is split. It isn’t in near the showroom condition it once was. Not sure it even runs. It has no bluebook value because bluebook doesn’t go back that far. Its value is strictly sentimental. Because, after all, I’m a classic.

I’m a little pasty in areas. Really just around the package and the pooter, cause I’m a swimmer and I’m more tan than I was when I was looking to get married. So, I guess I’m a little better in some ways but it’s meant I’ve also had some skin cancers removed. Kinda like rust spots. I am a seriously well used automobile, not yet a clunker by any means, but without the extras I had when I stepped out of singlehood 27 years ago. Those bells and whistles now come standard. Nothing special. My undercarriage is a little worn (occasional…