She started it...

I had always like Miatas but driving through the back roads south of San Jose in my Ford Contour a couple of years ago put me over the edge. Not literally. While my Contour had a bit of pep and it was not an automatic, zig-zagging through the hills was fun but not exhilarating. I could just imagine what the same road in a Miata might be like. I refused to let myself imagine it in an Alpha Romeo or an old Triumph. I am not a mechanic and had little interest paying yet another college tuition - for the mechanic's kid. So the Miata was both something I liked and something that would not - knock on wood - be in the shop for half its life.

That brings up the story of the Audi I had, the one my wife likes to remind me of any time I look longingly at some new really cool Audi. Mine not only had a cassette player but also a microphone just in case I needed to do a little dictation while I drove (that ages me a bit). Perhaps when Mia is in the shop I can share more about Audi.

Mia is the other woman. Mia is a forest green (British racing green) 1999 Miata. My wife is at the point where she will tolerate forest green, that is good for the marriage. She would not be quite so tolerant of blonde. I would not normally name my cars. Who would? My wife's car when we got out of college was named Matthew. I am not sure why. I think I know the Matthew in question and I am still not sure why the car was named for him. Ignorance is ...

Now because everyone assumes that because I have a little green sports car I must be going through a midlife crisis of some sort. My advantage if it is "mid life" at my age. No, I was just too cheap to purchase a sports car until I would no longer need more than two seats on a regular basis. I suddenly realized a few months ago that the time had come. That was when my quest for the right Miata began. I was scouring the internet for a 2002 or 2003 Miata, low mileage, blue or grey, .... My quest ended almost as quickly when a friend, someone who actually knew how to buy a car, told me that he was selling his 1999 Miata. Two years before he had searched in surrounding cities up to a couple hundred miles away for the right Miata. He found it and now wanted to get rid of it. It was a great match. He wanted more seats and I wanted less.
But back to the naming thing. It was my wife who started naming the cars. Being the really creative person that I am, my little green Miata became Mia. It is much more fun to go on a drive with Mia than "with my little green Miata". So today this blog is about Mia and I. Tomorrow it may get serious or something else. But today I will not annoy my friends with stories of the latest ding on Mia's formerly pristine paint job, I will blog away in anonymity for now. At least I will do that after I walk around the car a couple of times to be sure no dings have spontaneously materialized.