bob marley and miatas

i just got off the phone with my dad. i was motivated to call after the latest issue of rolling stone got here yesterday and looked like it had been through a war and lost. as you may recall, i ranted about the local post office screwing up my mail in one of my first blog entries last month. i thought the problem was solved a couple of weeks ago, when i scribbled "not at this address, please forward to:", followed by my dad's address, on several pieces of his mail and stuffed them into the "outgoing mail" slot. well, i may not be getting his mail anymore, but it seems my post office was feeling proactive and went ahead and informed rolling stone that i'd moved back to kansas city. brilliant! so, my latest issue, featuring a very tattered and worse for wear bob marley cover, arrived yesterday. (actually, somehow during transit, the cover became a separate piece, but i suppose i should give some kudos to my mailman for keeping it all together. ...maybe when i'm done being irritated by his apparent inability to read a simple forwarding order.)

anyway, the conversation turned to my upcoming trip out to kansas city. one of my college friends is getting married on the 19th, and since i'm too broke to buy a plane ticket, i'm driving out. dad will be out of town at the time (disneyworld, wothout me- that's just wrong!), and i've spent the last month trying to talk him into letting me drive his midlife crisis. you see, dad bought himself a gorgeous blue miata a couple of years ago, and ever since he brought it home, i've been trying to figure out how i can con him into letting me borrow it. i was finally able to drive it during my last trip out to kansas city back in october, but i was chaperoned the entire time, and then he hid the keys from me. so, when we were talking today i thought maybe i could trip him up into at least letting me drive the miata around the block, or to the wedding i'm attending.....or maybe i'd accidentally forget to switch back into my car for the trip back to columbia.
"can i at least look at the car?"
"yes."
"can i touch the car?"
"yes."
"can i sit in the car?"
"yes."
"can i backitoutofthedriveway?"
(laughter) "no, sugar."
dammit. i was so close.

that was pretty much the end of the conversation. he said he had to go- to go hide the car keys again, i'm sure. (i'm also pretty sure bob marley would let me drive his miata.)