I think horses is an apropos name for an entry about vehicles, don’t you? We talk of cars in terms of horsepower, after all. It’s a term which over the years has lost any recognizable meaning. How much is one horsepower? I mean, I wouldn’t want to tangle with a horse on a mean streak. Something tells me the horse would come out ahead in that scenario.
Horses are some powerful animals, but their power levels are subjective and pretty varied. After all, there’s horsepower and there’s horsepower. Do we measure in Clydesdale power vs. Thoroughbred power? If so, you’d probably want Clydesdale power for your 4×4, Thoroughbred power for your sportscar, and pony-power for your Mini. That, too, would leave you open to blends: three-quarter Clydesdale power and a quarter Thoroughbred for a sporty truck might get abbreviated into “Quarterhorse,” which would never do. Quarterhorses, after all, have their own subset of rules. Is a Quarterhorse a stepping stone between Clydesdales and Thoroughbreds, or would it become the better term for four-wheel-drive? And what about those kiddie cars? Would they need My Little Pony power?
What brought this on was that my last carpool buddy has found a vehicle she wants, provided she can cut a deal that’s in her budget. Which should make me perfectly happy, only she asked me to haul her across the planet on my day off so she can negotiate for her perfect carriage.
Oh, there will be gas money exchanged, that’s not the issue. I just feel like the horse’s ass for letting myself get talked into driving that far. We’re talking waaaaaaay across town.
It all boiled down to this: once she has her wheels, I will be able to drive to and from work in peace, listening to the radio when the mood strikes and listening to the glorious sounds of silence when it doesn’t. More important is the fact that I’ll shave more than an hour off my commute and (please God!) that should translate into less stress.
And that’s a horse of a different colorl