97. Time and Mechanics...Hmmph

I just love the biggest part of the internet.  I actually glean comfort in the fact that because of the silly computer, even if I find myself alone, I'll never really be alone.  Friends, family, the Smithsonian, Sunset Magazine, just Google it and there you are.  Hours of time can be constructively wasted and you are stunned when you glance down at the time (conveniently at the bottom right hand corner of the screen) and find it actually has been hours!  What they really need to add is a timer.  You know, one of those digital kind like hair-dressers use when they are timing your perm.  Hmmm...I think I'll get one of those with a magnet and add it to my monitor.  Well, second thought, I'm supposed to be retired and not worry about the time, right?  Half the time I don't know what the date is, or even what day it is until it's time to sit down and catch an evening show on the television.  It is rather luxurious most of the time.  There is that word again, time.  It comes up time and time again when it shouldn't matter, at least not most of the time.

But I digress, our friend Pam sent us an email with cartoons of Hallmark's "Maxine."  I can't imagine anyone not knowing and loving the irascible "Maxine."  Most of us know someone who he surely must have used as inspiration for the character.  Our friend Jeff's mother, June, was the spitting image of Maxine, personality, cigarette and all.  The only difference was June never, ever wore bunny slippers.  I did not, however, know who the creator was.  Well, the email included that, as well!  It turns out he is Hallmark employee artist John Wagner.  Employed by Hallmark since 1970, Wagner's "Maxine" didn't appear until 1986 when they added the "Shoebox Greetings" to their line.  She is inspired by his mother, grandmother and maiden aunts.

The email came with lots of "Maxine" cartoons, but one struck especially close to home.  It is about mechanics, the bane of automobile existence.

  From about 1980 to about 1987 we had the pleasure of owning a 1955 Plymouth Belevedere.  I LOVED that car!  We bought it to teach the girls to drive in because we felt they would be impervious to harm when surrounded with actual steel.  I ended up falling madly in love with it.  One morning I was hustling myself off to work and it wouldn't start. I called the station on the corner a couple blocks away and had them send a mechanic.  He drove up in a tow truck and started fiddling under the hood trying different things.  Finally, he stood up, looked at me and said, "Lady, you have a problem."  Relieved, I said, "What is it?"  He actually said, "Your car won't start."  They wonder why we don't trust them.