Friday, September 26, 2008

The Golf Cart

I have an old golf cart - about 14 years old, I believe. We call him "Limey". He is listed on the ownership papers as a Mercedes Benz cart - is that possible? He bears no resemblance to a Mercedes, at least not the Mercedes I'm thinking of.

The golf cart has its quirks, to put it mildly. It is a bit lop-sided. One tire is always needing air. It leaks oil. It's hard to start when the engine is cold. It has more welds than the Tin Man.

However, my old golf cart is our main transportation. It has lugged people, suitcases, furniture, animals, lumbar, bags of cement, concrete blocks, a mattress, fridges, paint cans. The golf cart has stepped up and done its job.

Loco thinks the golf cart is his, and anywhere the cart goes, he goes. If a mechanic comes to take the cart away to work on it, Loco runs down the road after him and hops on. He has to be restrained when the cart is going somewhere without him. He loves his cart.

This week the hospital I was working at has a volunteer service: electric golf carts to drive people from the parking lot to the main entrance. Little old men (retirees) volunteer and spend their time picking up and dropping off visitors. And they take it seriously. They chase you around the parking lot until they find where you parked and sit there until you hop on. They seem disappointed if you tell them you would like to walk (it's only a short walk, and sometimes I like to enjoy the fresh air and sunshine).

Yesterday I hopped on the front with the little man. I had my laptop wheelie with me, placed on the floor, which left no room for my feet. Well, I'm used to that from my own cart. I simply scrunched my feet around the bag. And knocked the cart out of gear. I don't think the little man was all that happy with me but away we went on the little cart. Zoom - a cart that didn't rattle and shake, and the engine was as quiet as a whisper. I was sort of envious.

And I think my golf cart sensed that I had cheated on him. Last night Miguel told me the muffler gave way - tat tat tat TAT TAT TAAAATTTTT!!!!! So loud he was afraid the police would stop him. The golf cart is back with the mechanic who just fixed that darn muffler 2 months ago. Loco is sulking because he didn't get his daily tour. Loco never would have cheated on "Limey".


Life's a Beach! said...

I love those hospital volunteers! Sometimes I felt like I should get out of the wheel chair and push them! (Haven't seen the parking lot golf carts yet!) I've seen Limey and it's a cool cart!

IslaZina said...

Both our carts are on their last wheel. But hey, in Mexico, they are good for another 50,000K. Replace one part at a time, or have sections rebuilt. It's Mexico. Until very recently there were no junk yards because there is no junk!

Scottozoid said...

no junk yards: just put wheels under the junk and call it a "carro de golf"

IslaZina said...

That's carita a te! Sound more luxurious already, no

Sue said...

Mmmm, I don't know - it's looking like my cart might be getting closer to the junk pile that I'd like. I will blog about the latest when (and if) my cart ever makes its way home from the mechanic.