A Great White Hope

Alrighty folks. We've got to name this big fella. So take a gander...




... and ponder the leading contenders:

- "Fortinbras" -- suggested by Jay, and I have to admit it elicited a belly laugh when I read it. But is it perhaps too militant? Or is it merely and appropriately rugged?

- "Dan" -- proposed by me, mostly because I like the idea of having a vehicle named simply, "Dan." Also, it seems to me the truck needs a blue-collar counterpoint to its sporty stylings -- note the silver wheel well trim.

- "David Duke" -- this amusing jewel comes from Stef, and I'm guessing it speaks for itself. As, indeed, does David Duke.

- "Beautiful" -- suggested by Robin, although I don't think she knows she suggested it.... A careful reading of her last email, however, and it was proffered up.

- "Snowflake" -- a natural follow-up to Papillon, suggested by Julia.

- "Ford" -- also a Julia suggestion. Witty.

- "Whitley" -- from Krista, after a camp she attended (either as a child, or just last summer -- that point wasn't clear).

- "Genet" -- suggested by Dale. And a good suggestion it is, but am I really snooty enough to name my truck Genet? Think very carefully before you answer that question....

- "Drugged up Dork" -- suggested by Jess. Oh, wait, I don't think that was for the truck. Apparently she was calling me that.

Because none of my pregnant or recently pregnant friends/family wanted any suggestions on naming their children, and because I repeatedly suggested "Craigina", "Craigifer", and "Craigette" anyway, I am opening up the field to any and all comments. Or you can suggest other names, at least until voting is closed. And I promise to name the truck whatever is most popular, as long as it is also whatever I decide I like best.

Papillon

I write to tell the sad tale of the end of my beloved red truck, Papillon.

We had a good 2005. After Papillon took so quickly to a new radiator, I changed her timing belt and timing belt pulleys and readied myself for another joy filled 100,000 miles. Her engine was running beautifully and the red still gleamed -- although it did, admittedly, require ever more frequent washings.

But on the first of June, I’m afraid she strayed. An approaching Camry, clearly in admiration of Papillon’s shapely fenders, switched into my lane and the two took part in bit of head-on Toyota on Toyota action. Sad to say, the relationship didn’t go well, and neither vehicle escaped unscathed. Actually, both vehicles were completely, well, scathed. The fine folks at Mercury insurance decided that their Camry was responsible for leading my dearest Papillon on, and then leaving her heartbroken. (Although the phrase they used was “total loss.”)

I went to bid a final adieu to her this morning, gathered a box of my belongings that were still inside, and looked longingly back as I walked away. I will indeed miss that truck.

So, exit Papillon.

BUT…

ENTER an as-of-yet unnamed WHITE TRUCK! A lovely Regular Cab Tundra, slightly used, but fabulously new to me. (I’ll be taking suggestions for names from upcoming passengers.)

On another front, more important but less entertaining, I’m thoroughly souped up on drugs. After a visit to the urgent care center and a couple of doctors, the medical establishment believes that I have escaped without broken vertebrae or ruptured discs. Woo hoo! I’ve been given a highly technical icing regimen to follow, as well as muscle relaxants and prescription pain killers. Expectations are that I’ll be completely fine within a couple of weeks.

I would like to ask this rhetorical question: why is that when I have to purchase medication myself – such as anti-malarials for Northern Thailand – that medication costs at least $150, but when someone else’s insurance is paying 100% of the cost, the medication costs less than $10?