Ah the glories of the small town

My wife and I own a 1970 Mercedes (imagined cool link to picture). It is classic. Since we live in the mountains, whenever I drive it I feel as if I am in a 1960's film in Monaco. It's had some problems adjusting to the altitude and cold, since it grew up in the Bay area. I took it to my mechanic, and he told me, "Willie is your man. I'm not to comfortable with Mercedes', but Willie is good. Call him after hours."

So I call Willie on thursday evening, and he tells me he's going to come up to my place. Nice German accent. He came this morning, spent about an hour working on my carbuerators, and tells me that they are in good shape. I sat there with him, and I found out he is orignally from Poland, and lived for a time in Germany. His wife spoke no English, and I think they must have spoken Polish or German to eachother. He lately moved from LA, and is working whatever job he can- heavy machinery for the local trash service. He wants to build a up a client base of foreign cars and motorcycles. He thought it was beautiful up here, noticed the sequioas by the gates. He tells me that there are a few things that need a little attention, but I have a beaut of a car. "How much do I owe you?" "Nothing." Wow. I love small towns.

Credit, of course, must also go to Willie, who will receive my business in the future. And my appreciation, which means more to me than money.

I just started "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius." I like it. I would always to read something wonderful, and I think this might be.