The Sunday Memory Drawer - A Father's Gift

This is not a photo of my very first car, but it is darn close.   A 1980 Toyota Corolla with a stick shift.  It was that color brown, too.

Now if you are looking at the title of this post and thinking how nice it was for my dad to buy my first car, you're wrong.  Oh, I got a little assistance from my dad and my grandmother for the down payment.  But this thing got paid off on time by yours truly.   And it took a while.  It's a good thing, too, that the car lasted ten years.  The major issue at the end of the decade was not whether the car ran fine.   The roof was covered in rust and the plastic upholstery was torn from end to end.  

But, still to this day, I lease exclusively Toyota vehicles.   And every three years, I turn a car in and get a new one.

So, again you ask, what's the gift?

Well, when I got my Corolla, Dad gave me the ultimate presentation to keep in the trunk of my vehicle.

A wooden block the size of a brick.

Uh?

"Well, you never know when you will need it to prop up the car if you get a flat."

Okay.  Now, to this day, I have never changed a tire.   I mean, that's what AAA memberships are for.   But, nevertheless, I got this wooden block handed down from my dad as if it were spiritual guidance.

And, since it was always in the trunk of my car, it always got transferred to my newer vehicle.

When I had my then-Camry shipped to Los Angeles upon my move west, the wooden block went along on the cross-country ride.  Then switching out car leases here, the block always made the transfer.   

It's as much a part of my car as my driving it.  I've held onto it more as a tribute to my dad than anything else.  Even if it had zero use.

Until....

Two weeks ago, the metal frame that holds the slats of my platform bed had a malfunction.  One corner of the bed started to sag.   Now the drama is how to find a handyman to fix this.   And what do I use until then?

Ah!

You see how perfectly it is propping up the corner of the bed with the assistance of a book.  It is doing a masterful job until the right repairman comes along.

Thanks, Dad.  It did come in handy.

Dinner last night:  Hot dog at Citi Field.