My New Mazda

Last week I parted with my stodgy old 1987 Volvo in favor of a perky new 2010 Mazda3.

It was high time that I drove a vehicle that declared my personal style and vitality.  A freckle-faced boy of sixty should have a sporty car.  (Take it from me, they're freckles.  Only the malicious refer to them as age spots.)

Here is the Mazda in profile.

 Front and back views.

Many automotive critics have poked fun at the Mazda's grill, saying that it resembles a goofy grin.

For my part, I prefer a car with a cheerful countenance over a car with a surly countenance.

   

A Musical Dream

I had a strange dream this morning. 

I dreamed that I was in bed asleep when my clock radio woke me to the sound of a symphony playing on my customary classical music station.  Time to get up.  I threw off the covers and swung my legs around to sit on the edge of the bed.  Leaning over, I tapped the the clock radio's off button.  The music kept playing.  I tapped again, harder.  The music kept playing.  Puzzled, I turned the knob to change the radio station.  The symphony continued undisturbed despite my actions.  I felt perplexed and alarmed. 

Then I woke from the dream.  The clock radio was indeed playing a symphony, the same symphony that had somehow seeped into my dream.  But now when I hit the off button, the music stopped.

This is how you know you are truly awake: your actions produce expected results.