These are the times that try men's souls...

Someone once said that patience is a virtue and people have been quoting that ever since. Well, let me say this about that: patience is not only a virtue, it's also equivalent to a four-letter word: hard! I know that to be true for me anyway. Here's my story for those of you who don't know it already. If you have heard it, please feel free to ignore this post; but then again, you have the freedom to ignore any post I put out there, don't you?

On December 22, 2010, I purchased a car. Specifically, I purchased a 1999 Subaru Forester. I fell in love with it, so to speak, because it was just the right price, just the right size, just the right style for the likes of somebody like me. For all intents and purposes, I test drove it and I liked the way it felt on the road. Bingo! The perfect vehicle for a retired guy living in the country--space in the back for the dog, room for buying things at Home Depot, and all wheel drive for those difficult places in which I might otherwise get stuck such as mud or snow.

I got behind the wheel to drive it home and that's when the craziness began. First, as I was joyfully gliding along the road, all of a sudden the locks started going off and on automatically, along with my headlights flashing as if possessed by a vehicular spirit. So I discovered online that there was a way to adjust that system with a reset button. So that's what I did. All seemed well--I was happy again. But the spirit returned with vengeance to the extent that I was at one point locked in the car! (Whoa! Is this where I'll spend the rest of my days?) I did manage to convince the spirit of the locks to let me out, and the next day I took the car back. They said they'd get right on it--which meant by their timing, two to three days. In the meantime, it snowed a really big snow, and I was without my all wheel drive super car to get me off the farm.

When I got it back, they had done away with the alarm system in order to prevent future lock curses from entrapping me in the otherwise friendly surroundings of my old '99. Driving the road, I happily went to my church down in Florence, NJ. On the way home on I-95, I gazed down at the gauges only to see that my car was overheating. I immediately pulled off the road to let it cool down. About a half hour later, I completed my homeward journey and, once again, the next day, I drove up to the dealer's. They'd get right on it--which, of course, meant 3-5 days in this case. It snowed again, just as heftily as before. Once again, where's my all wheel drive perfect vehicle?

You're probably getting bored with the story by this time, so I'll shorten it by saying it overheated two more times, requiring towing on one occasion. Then, pulling out of my parking place at the church one Sunday, the wheel fell off--that's right--fell off. It got towed from Florence to Lambertville. Then when I got it back three days later, I took it to a mechanic that I had had work done by through the years in Cranbury. On the way, it overheated. After looking it over, the mechanic said, "This car needs a new engine." It got towed back to the dealers, where it has been since February 15.

I know that a lot of people would have taken some pretty severe legal action by then. First, the car didn't fall under the so-called Lemon Law. Second, no matter how foolish I appear to many proactive people, I like to pride myself (and there's the problem) as one who is very spiritual. I know, I know...there's a limit, right? Okay, I get it, but that's how I am in my nature. Of course, I'm not always sure whether I'm spiritual or if that's my justification for the way I am. Anyway, I'm supposed to be getting it back today, although I've not heard anything from them.

All I'm asking is that when the day comes that I leave this dimension of life, will you please vote for my sainthood? That will make the whole matter of patience not only a virtue, but purposeful.