This is week 128 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment.

Sunday (Day 889): Raking For The Boss lady

#1GF! and I were out the door at 7:30AM to go rake the family cottage. Wait, let me rephrase. We went to #1GF!’s brother’s house together, and #1GF!’s brother and I were tagged for raking duty. The women folk were tagged for child care. #1GF! stayed for a bit so that the baby could visit her cousins.

Before I went to go rake, one of the baby’s cousins wanted a kiss goodbye, so I bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Her head shrunk back and she looked at me with a furrowed brow. “You’re face is scratchy,” she said as she rubbed her cheek. She then turned to #1GF! and said, “Make him shave.” In this family, they’re no longer building ladies, they’re building boss ladies.

I don’t know how it got down to just #1GF!’s brother and I raking a family cottage that neither one of us uses. Oh, wait. Yes, I do. One year, #1GF!’s brother volunteered to rake the cottage and dragged #1GF! along. Then, the sister in law got roped in to the event. The sister in law eventually figured out that raking sucks and had a baby to get out of it, leaving #1GF! and her brother to rake.

Luckily, #1GF! met this nice guy who loved her and didn’t mind helping her out. A few years later, #1GF! said, “Wait a minute. Why am I still raking?” and had a baby to get out of it. The brother and I don’t have ovaries, so we had no way out of the raking unless we were in the hospital waiting for a baby to be delivered, which required precise timing that was way beyond either of us. So, the two of us were stuck raking the family cottage on our own.

#1GF!’s brother and I finished the raking in a couple of hours, but half the leaves were still on the trees. I met up with #1GF!, and we were back home by noon.

I spent the rest of the day raking our own yard, and finished up at 5PM. I showered and #1GF! took over the dinner making duties. I wasn’t exhausted, but I was certainly tired of raking. #1GF! fell asleep on the couch early, and I wasn’t too far behind.

Monday (Day 890): A New Dealer Scam To Look Out For

I spent the morning playing with the baby and sending emails back and forth to different car dealers trying to secure a deal. At 1:30PM, we went out to a Jetta dealer to have ROCKET CAR! appraised.

They went out to have their appraisers look at the car, and I listened to another salesman verbally pounding on two customers. One was pinching the bridge of his nose, and the other had his arms folded and was staring off into space. The salesman simply repeated reworded variations of “give me a thousand dollars,” in an attempt to wear them down. They looked pretty tired.

They came back and made a lowball offer on my car. That’s what happens when you lock in a price before you show up. They play with what they have to make a profit. Unfortunately, I wasn’t budging on what I wanted so the numerous trips to the manager turned into the manager getting directly involved with the sale.

He and his suit sat down at the table and tried to get me to buy the “rare isn’t valuable” line of logic. There must be an online course where car dealers learn this shit. It think it’s a more advanced form of economics than my degree can handle.

The manager got tired of pounding his head against a rock, and stepped out of the process once again. That’s when the saleswoman pulled a new scam on me. She presented me with a printout of the book value of my car from Kelly Blue Book dot com. The printout listed the correct year, make, and model of my car, making it seem like a very upfront thing for a car dealer to do. But, I already knew the book value on my car, and it was two thousand dollars higher than the value listed on the printout.

I studied the paper. “That makes no sense,” I said. “I checked the book two hours ago, and this isn’t it.” The saleswoman made a face like it was very perplexing, and then made an excuse that she only takes what people print off for her. I didn’t bother accusing her of anything, but I was pretty sure of what was going on. I stood up and thanked her for her time. We had arrived at 2:30PM, and were leaving an hour later without a deal.

When I got home, I sent the saleswoman a link to the real book values to make her aware that I knew what had happened. I wasn’t accusatory, but I implied that the person who printed out the information must’ve had a horribly shaky hand to have accidentally unchecked every standard option on my car to arrive at the lower book value. Despite the nice tone of the e-mail, I was pretty irritated with the dealer and wondered how many unprepared people they screwed with that scam over the years.

The last note that I have for the day was that #1GF! made dinner again. Other than that, I have no idea what happened. A house party probably broke out when Kid ‘N Play came over to show us their updated version of the Kid ‘N Play kickstep. Crazy stuff like that always happens when those guys come over. Woot woot.

Tuesday (Day 891): Swinging With Bea Arthur

I did some more car research and then drove to the North Shore to visit a Jetta dealer who offered me another good deal via e-mail.

I took a look at the Jetta and it was not only less powerful than ROCKET CAR!, but it had less headroom. My head touched the ceiling no matter how far back I put the seat. That didn’t make me happy, but #1GF! was looking for a 2010 manual transmission, and this was on the list. I let them take ROCKET CAR! into their garage to appraise, so to pass the time, I called #1GF! and wandered around the lot.

After forty-five minutes, I got bored enough that I told them to bring the car back and then call or e-mail me when they figured out what their offer was going to be. They brought back the car in a hurry and we sat down at a table to talk. Because the deal was already set up online, there was no wiggling on price, so I knew that the dealer was going to try to play with the trade.

The salesman and manager went over what they found, and a $200 clear coat repair on ROCKET CAR!’s wing quickly inflated into $2,500 spoiler replacement. They also mentioned that all the tires needed to be replaced and took off twelve hundred for that.

I shut them down by throwing in a brand new set of tires and telling them I’d have the wing repaired. The spoiler doesn’t even cost $2,500 to replace, and the fact that it had a clear coat problem is a very common issue with the model. As I expected, neither concession changed their offer on my trade.

They wanted me to give them a Lancer Evolution VIII and $7,800 to leave with an underpowered Jetta that I barely fit in. It was like showing up to Hollywood swingers’ party with a supermodel and fishing Bea Arthur’s keys out of the bowl. And then having Bea tell you with a wry smile on her wrinkled face that it was “going to cost you $7,800 for a piece of this cookie.”

I told the dealer that I already walked away from a deal on an identical car at another Jetta dealer that would’ve cost me $3,500 because it was too much to pay for a Jetta. That’s when he knocked down the cost to me to $5,500. I just stared at him and wondered if he was deaf or stupid.

He confirmed the latter with his next comment. “We’re really close to that, so you should go for it.”

I was facing dealer math again. If $3,500 is too much, then $2,000 more is a deal that I should take even though I could beat his deal with a simple phone call. What? I reiterated that I had a deal for $2,000 less at another dealer, just in case the two of them were really hearing impaired. I also made sure to speak slowly and clearly just in case they were really just stupid. The dealer and the salesman looked at the numbers on the page as if staring really hard and concentrating would magically change my mind.

I couldn’t take more than two minutes of them staring at the paper, so I thanked them and told them to call me if anything changed. I wrote off the two hour stay and two hours on the road and walked out. It was another complete waste of time.

I picked up some milk and got back into rush hour traffic for the long ride through the city. When I was about halfway home, a truck on my left kept revving it’s engine and hitting the brakes as if to egg me on. People do this to my car because of the wing. I’m not a boy racer. I’m old. I rarely even break the speed limit. The only thing I use the power in the car for is to get around idiots who want to race.

I dropped a gear, hit the brakes hard, and zipped around the back of the truck and up his left side in one fluid move. That’s when I saw it was #GF!’s brother messing with me. I shook my head, waved, and thought about the odds of us being next to each other on the highway so far from home.

I got home and took the baby for a while. I tried to put her to bed, but I was having a hard time leaving her alone. She was so small, and I didn’t want her to be sad or lonely. Unfortunately, nothing that I was doing was soothing the baby. #1GF! eventually made me walk away, pointing out that sometimes having me put the baby to bed was as effective as hiring a clown to put the baby to bed in a moonwalk.

When I stepped back six feet, the baby fell asleep almost immediately. “You’re a genius at this!” I said pretty loudly before slapping my hands over my mouth. #1GF! shushed me and ushered me out of the room before I could squirt her with a flower or honk my bike horn.

Once the baby was asleep, #1GF! and I fell into a brief television coma. I snapped out of it and looked up a Subaru and suggested that we take a look at it because it was comparable to the car #1GF! wanted. I hoped that I wasn’t leading us on yet another research induced wild goose chase.

Wednesday (Day 892): What About A Subaru Legacy?

I woke up at 3AM to #1GF! laughing and trying to shush the baby. The baby was in full conversation mode, babbling near maximum volume. I don’t know if I slept much after that because I kept laughing. I was definitely awake at 5AM, laying there listening to the baby fidget, while my brain spun with cars.

We went out in the morning to take a look at a Subaru. It wasn’t bad looking, it was in our price range, it came in manual, and was all wheel drive. I hopped into the passenger seat to make sure that my head didn’t touch the ceiling, and hopped out. #1GF! took it out for a spin while I sat in the truck and entertained the baby. When #1GF! returned, I took the salesman’s card and we left. I told him we had to think about it, and he didn’t pressure us to stay. I liked that.

The baby fell asleep on the way home, and we grabbed a couple of subs. I got the baby inside the house without waking her, which never happens. She slept on the counter in her car seat while #1GF! and I sweated over the hot peppers loaded onto our subs.

When we finished eating, #1GF! went to buy some non-maternity clothes for her return to work, and I went back to looking up cars. I was disappointed to find out that, despite having good crash test ratings, JD Power thinks Subarus are pieces of garbage.

I sent out emails to the Jetta dealers to let them know that I was no longer interested in a Jetta. Then, I looked up for DIY ways to fix a clear coat issue on my wing.

The baby woke up, so I fed her, played with her for a while, and got her back to sleep without a lot of fuss. She kept crying in her sleep though, which was a little freaky. I’d pick her up, she’d snuggle her head into the space under my chin, and I’d rock from foot to foot waiting for her breathing to slow. I wondered why I hadn’t had kids sooner, which led me to wonder if I could remember myself in her position.

In the early afternoon, I put some ribs in the oven to slow cook for dinner. The baby was still crying randomly in her sleep, and every time I put everything down and got my hands cleaned up to go get her, the crying would stop before I got to her doorway.

#1GF! got home a little later, and we prepped dinner together. I peeled my potatoes, and #1GF! cleaned the beans. That last sentence seems like it could use an “if you know what I mean” at the end of it, but then, you wouldn’t know what I meant at all.

I sent #1GF! in to look at side by side comparisons of sedans that I had found in my research. When viewed individually, the sedans looked distinct. When viewed side by side, the differences melted away.

We ate dinner and the baby slept quietly. We had a peaceful dinner, and although it was odd, I missed the baby while she slept.

Thursday (Day 893): The Car Deals Keep Getting Sweeter

I woke up at 4 something in the morning, and really didn’t mind. At that point I was sleeping less, but minding it less. I checked on the baby once because she likes to run in her sleep.

We eventually got up at 6AM and #1GF! was in an understandably poor mood because our time home together was quickly coming to an end. There was nothing I could do to snap her out of it.

At lunchtime, I went to a couple of body shops to see how much it would cost to sand and clear coat the wing of ROCKET CAR!. It turned out to be about $200, as expected, but neither shop was eager to take on the project.

While I was in the area, I popped into the hardware store to pick up some sandpaper, in case I wanted to tackle the project myself. I realized that I had what I needed at home, so I left empty handed.

I went home feeling a little down about having to do all this leg work just to get a car and having seemingly good deals turn bad once everything was on the table. I put out a price request to a bunch of Subaru dealers and put in a call to a Honda dealer. A couple of dealers got back to me with below invoice deals. Things were looking up a little. For me, anyway. #1GF! was still in a back to work induced funk.

I made the bed and cleaned up the house a little just to try to cheer #1GF! up, and by late in the afternoon, she seemed a little better. It probably wasn’t my cleaning, but the fact that the baby was in good spirits and was chatty as hell. I spent the rest of the night trying to solidify a deal on a car so that #1GF! would have something nice and new before she went back to work.

Friday (Day 894): The Foot Flicker

I woke up thinking about cars, yet again. Constantly working angles and preparing countermeasures wears the brain down, while facing the constant lying wears on the nerves. The negotiation process is fun, but listening to the same bullshit with a different face can get tedious after a while.

I decided to go out and get the food shopping done. It wouldn’t solve our car issue, but at least we’d have things to eat while we pondered our options. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” I called to #1GF! on my way out the door.

“Food shopping doesn’t take two hours,” said the woman who hasn’t done a more than a handful of grocery shopping runs in the last few years. “Do you have money?”

I counted the money in my pocket. “It should be fine.”

“Here take a couple of twenties, just in case.”

“Nah. I have more than I’ve spent on groceries here. I’ll never use the extra.” And off I went.

It must’ve been bring your mom and grandmother to the store day, because the store was full of moms and old ladies. The moms distractedly raced through the aisles, trying to keep their carts full and their childrens’ hands empty. The old ladies apologetically clogged those same aisles by doing things like leaving their carts sideways while they got their faces really close to tuna fish labels. Some of them were leaning in so close that they looked as if they were trying to surreptitiously smell the cans.

When I got home, the baby was awake, so the ladies watched me put the groceries away. It was 1PM, two hours after I left. I was right about the time. Unfortunately, I had to admit being twenty dollars short at the checkout, making #1GF! right about the cost.

#1GF! and I had a brief talk about how we had ended up looking at cars that cost double what we had planned on spending. The conversation quickly veered into oncoming who cares?

I made some calls on cars, and the deals were starting to get juicy. We had a new Subaru on the hook for $300 over dealer cost, which was well below invoice, and I had a Honda on the hook for below dealer cost. I was as excited about either car as I am about girls with small glasses playing love songs on acoustic guitars, but when you get down near dealer cost, the pants are going to tent a little anyway. It looked like it was coming down to who was giving me the most for my trade.

I made some chicken thighs for dinner, and then baked some chocolate chip cookies for a birthday party we were going to over the weekend. By the time everything was cleaned up, it was already 9PM. #1GF! and I watched a couple of sitcoms and started falling asleep on the couch. I would’ve finished falling asleep if #1GF! didn’t amuse herself by flicking my foot whenever my eyes closed.

Saturday (Day 895): Someone Who Needs Me

I woke up to the baby babbling in the other room. I got up to put the baby back to bed, but by 7AM, I had to admit that I was failing. #1GF! stepped in, and two minutes later, the baby was asleep. Neither of us knew what she did.

#1GF! and I had breakfast and sat in front of DIY Network because we were consuming a ridiculous amount TV those days.

In the early afternoon, we went to the baby’s cousin’s birthday party. It was the first party that we took the baby to, and she only slept an hour all day. There was too much going on. She only threw up on one of #1GF!’s family, but said family member had disregarded several warnings to lodge a burp cloth between clothing and the baby. She didn’t listen, and she payed. People never listen to me. I think that they assume that the serious things out of my mouth are just jokes that they don’t fully understand. I joke a lot, but when I say, “Use a burp cloth,” or “Duck, motherfucker,” I’m being serious.

When we got home, I made dinner, and #1GF! put the baby to bed. I could hear the baby babbling nonstop through the monitor. “There’s no way that baby is going to sleep,” I yelled down the hall. I could hear #1GF! laughing in the other room as she continued her efforts.

I took the baby after she threw up on #1GF! for the second time. #1GF! came out of our room wearing a mortgage shirt from a house that we never closed on years ago. I looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s the baby. I’m out of shirts,” she said.

“I guess so,” I said, smiling at her in her bright yellow mortgage billboard.

“She has finally thrown up on every t-shirt I have.”

I laughed, and the baby tried to exact revenge by throwing up on me. I stuck my arms out straight with ninja speed and she barfed all over the floor. Sure, the floor was a mess, but I felt like I hit a home run because I was still clean. For the first time, I defeated the barf ninja. #1GF! stared at me wide eyed. The baby didn’t seem to notice that I was holding her at arm’s length or that she had thrown up.

Once the baby was asleep, we put on some chorus line movie that ended up in the queue because Roger Ebert recommended it. If you’re gay or in theater, you might’ve had a chance at understanding what the hell was going on, but neither of us had a clue. I lasted a half hour before I went to do clean up the dishes. #1GF! lasted ten more minutes before she realized that I wasn’t coming back.

#1GF! walked out of the room ten minutes later talking on the phone. The movie was still running. “You can shut that off whenever you go back in,” I said.

I put in Away We Go, a movie about a couple who roams the country trying to find the perfect place to give birth to their first child. Would I have liked it if I didn’t have a kid? Maybe. Okay, probably not. Fine, not a fucking chance.

I wish I could say that having a kid doesn’t change you, but it does. I still look the same. I still have the same John Doe haircut that peaked in popularity in 1962, and I haven’t been a sharp dresser since they stopped making Garanimals in my size.

Even though you’re essentially still the same body of water, there’s an inherent change somewhere that bubbles out of the deep and ripples the surface of who you are. Some of the things that you used to dedicate your time to, such as music, games, and writing, ride the ripples out and away toward the edges of your personality. They’re still there, but they’re no longer as close to the center as they once were.

It’s not that having a kid means that it’s not about you anymore. I think that having one makes you realize that it never was about you in the first place. And, generally, you don’t mind. Deep down, a new drive sort of takes hold, that supplants most of what you desire with just wanting your kid to be okay.

I never needed a dog or a sidekick to validate me (yet, I blog on year after year), and I never needed anyone to be dependent on me. Now that someone is, I own it. It has become part of who I am. And it carries only the weight of a four leaf clover rather than the gravity of burden. “For once I can say, ‘This is mine, you can’t take it.’ / Long as I know I’ve got love I can make it / For once in my life I have someone who needs me.” (listen)

What I Learned

• If you don’t know the book value of your car going into the dealership, the dealer may print off a trade value from Kelly Blue Book with all the standard options unchecked.
• The Subaru Legacy isn’t a bad car for the money, unless you ask J.D. Power.
• I don’t fit in a Jetta.
• Theoretically, I could sand and clear coat a spoiler.
• Invoice cost is not what to shoot for. These days, you shoot for dealer cost.
• Truecar.com is really good for finding what the dealer cost is and what people are paying.
• Roger Ebert is usually pretty good with movie recommendations, but when he fails, he fails hard.
• Parenting pushes most of your old priorities to the side.

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