So there I was today, taking in my 1991 (that’s right, 1991) Toyota Camry in for its annual Virginia safety inspection, when a bit of magic and connection happened.
When I first moved to Arlington in 2004, there often was something wrong with the car, something that cost a lot of money, whenever I went in for a safety or emissions test. Or so the people who did the inspections told me (and were happy to fix things for me). Then my car insurance agent told me about Jay and the guys at Japanese Auto Clinic, the humble, skilled, and honest mechanics who I trust and like so much that I get them Christmas gifts. They also told me where to go to get an honest and fair inspection, and so the past four years or so have been pretty much clean (or generated a legitimate repair list that Japanese Auto takes care of for a laughably low price). But I always still get a little knot in my stomach when I go.
I took the car in this morning, and engaged in the usual banter about how old it is and how I hope to get a few more years out of it since I only drive a couple thousand miles a year. Then, before I could even finish a Kindle game of Monopoly, the mechanic was back in the station, big grin on his place.
“You passed,” he said, “but then I knew you would even before you tested it, on account of that Waylon Jennings CD on the passenger seat.” (It was “Goin’ Down Rockin’,”
the CD of recordings, recently released, that Jennings made shortly before his death. Haunting, thoughtful, and in your face by turns. Vintage Waylon, in other words.)
I laughed, then said, “Well, that and the Japanese Auto oil change sticker, right?”
He smiled even broader. “Yeah, but really, it was Waylon.”
Thanks, Hoss.
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