My friend Cynthia from the Bush Tetras was looking for a car in LA.
Only losers walk in the City of Angels.
A pale-yellow Jaguar E-Class caught her eye and she wondered whether she should purchase it, if only in her mind.
“Get da Jag.”
I green-lighted the buy.
Back in the 1960s two teenage motorheads from my hometown tried to re-arrange the direction of their father’s Jag ie reverse the front end to the rear end.
Their mechanical effort was an absolute failure, but a brilliant failure.
The Jag sped down the suburban street out of control.
There was no steering.
No brakes either.
The two innovators ended up in a field.
Their father came home from vacation.
The Jag never drove right again and he never admonished his son.
After all it was just a car and even more so now.
Get da Jag.