Only Mr. Pansy

Only Mr. Pansy

Something Pansy Found 2 Lifetimes Ago

Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers, But to be fearless in facing them.
Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain,
But for the heart to conquer it.
Let me not look for allies in life's battlefield,
But to my own strength.
Let me not crave in anxious fear to be saved,
But hope for the patience to win my freedom.
Grant me that I may not be a coward,
Feeling your mercy in my success alone,
But let me find the grasp of your hand in my failure.

Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941)

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

PANSY'S PINK CADILLAC

Just a story. From kinda long, long ago.

Every Texas Gal NEEDS a Cadillac. Pansy's Cadillac was a 1978 Coupe De Ville. Her name was Flossie. When looking directly at Flossie, she appeared gray although actually it was Pewter. But Pansy knew Flossie's TRUE SOUL COLOR was pink. Just like Pansy wasn't actually BORN a redhead she sure as hell was meant to BE a redhead. In case you did not know, Pansy was a very white-haired child (they called it "tow headed" in those Olden Days). She was told all her life by her lying family that she'd be a redhead just like Aunt Peggy, who had been a towhead also. Well, Pansy's hair did NOT go red. Just very reddish-BROWN. Bitter and angry, she has been dyeing her hair red since before she can remember. And Flossie Pink is not your regular, everyday pink.....it is Invisible Pink. The kind you can only see for a brief second with your peripheral vision. "Flossie Pink" is wispy, ethereal and pearlescent.

For some reason, which escapes Pansy's memory now, the wild hair up Pansy's ass in 1992 was obtaining a Used Cadillac. She convinced Mr. Pansy that a Used Cadillac would be fun, cost hardly anything, and when it died we'd just leave it in a ditch somewhere and buy another one. Mr. Pansy's only proviso was that it had to be a two-door car. The newspaper ads (this was in the Olden Days when people used actual newspapers) were scoured daily. Many Cadillacs were viewed and rejected. Suddenly, on a Sunday--when NO ONE places a new ad for god's sake--there was The Ad! It made various completely impossible claims. Outright lies is what those kinds of claims usually are. Pansy decided to call even though it was already "too late" since she discovered this new ad after 1pm. Shockingly, the owner said "come on over and take a look." Pansy couldn't go look that day and so another 24 hours goes by before she and her two Pansy Offspring can go see the surely-it-has-been-sold Cadillac.

Prepare for a brutal unpleasant truth: The woman (sole driver of the Cadillac) was a German National, married to a U.S. military officer during WWII and they had both fretted when it came time to sell Flossie. [They did not know then and still do not know the Cadillac's name was Flossie.] They told me they had fretted because they might have to deal with "not white people". The owners were (1) original owners; (2) older, white, retired military; (3) the impossible claims were TRUE STATEMENTS; (4) they had "held" the car for Pansy because they "knew" over the phone that She was The One. They knew Pansy was The One because.............she sounded WHITE. Sorry about that, readers, but that's what they said out loud to me. Even though they did whisper when they said "not white people". It's Old Guard mentality. Let's hope it dies off with that generation.

Flossie sounded good mechanically, she was clean as a whistle, she was perfect. A 14 year old car with 58,000 miles on it and in primo cosmetic condition. Because it only went (1) to the weekly local Bridge card game; (2) once each month to the Bay Area to visit daughter. I explain I can't just buy it, my husband has to see it first. The elderly, Man Is Boss Of His Family couple readily approved of this proper behavior from Pansy. They saved the car for us and we bought Flossie the next day. For $1800.

Flossie was the real deal. I could have driven her to New York City and arrived refreshed. They really were Cadillacs back then. Mr. Pansy loved working on Flossie. She was cooperative and only required the usual oil change/tune up kind of maintenance needs. Her absolute favorite music was hip hop/rap/old school and she'd blare them out at the top of her lungs. With reverb! Yeh, yeh. Pansy don't necessarily like the rap but in Flossie, well, it sounded great. I made those slacker younguns, Sexy Mexi and Portugese, learn how to parallel park Flossie. They were scared but I was insistent and Flossie showed them it can be done....even with a big honkin' land shark like her! The schools nowadays and the DMV don't require it. How can you get through life without knowing how to parallel park?

One day as Flossie and I were driving to the courthouse I see I am coming up beside a TWIN TO FLOSSIE! Now, seeing a twin to your car is among the Top Ten of Life's Highlights. I drive up, look over and 3 black males in their early 20s are in their "Flossie" grooving to the same radio station I have playing! I say "Nice car" and they stare at the old white lady that seems to be talking to them. Then they get it. And we drive along for about a mile, enjoying our mutually beautiful cars, banging out the hip hop tunes. The guys just really can hardly stand it and they are laughing away and so am I! Comes time for me to turn off so I do my newly-learned-from-Sexi-Mexi sideways "V sign" with my hand and say "Peace out, dudes!" as I go left. They all literally stared at me with cartoonish wide open eyes and then started laughing so hard I believe they may have peed their saggin' pants. The driver goes so far as to bang his head on the steering wheel laughing at me. They all flash back the sideways Peace Sign at me and honked for about 2 city blocks as we parted ways. Ahh, it feels good to connect with youths of today.

One terrible night we heard Flossie screaming in the driveway at 3am. Someone had tried to steal her and instead she honked until Mr. Pansy disconnected her battery. Putting your head into a car honking at full throat is quite deafening and not nearly as fun as getting your ears ruined by a rock concert. The evil ones had punched out Flossie's passenger door lock so very little cosmetic damage occurred. The insurance adjuster was good about the claim and not pushing us to "total" the car. Until we got her back from the repair shop and her horn was still non-functional.

For reasons I still do not understand, the insurance adjuster and the repair people threw a tantrum over the horn. They told me that repairing the hot-wire job on the steering column had nothing to do with the horn. Now, Pansy is no mechanic but that's not her job. She said "So, you are actually trying to tell me that the horn bone is NOT connected to the steering bone?" THAT really angered them all. Eventually they gave us $150 cash and since there was no sense arguing with them further, we took the money, cancelled the insurance policy and tattled on the adjuster to the company. Flossie drove around for a year, unable to speak. Which was good training for Pansy to not lean on her horn at all the bad drivers out there. We found a "steering columns only" repairman who repaired Flossie's horn. Via the steering column. For only $100. Now whose bone is connected to which bone...?...smirks the Pansy as she spent the extra $50 on a fluffy steering wheel cover for Flossie.

Flossie could handle dicey situations, too. Once Pansy went to pick up Pansy Jr. and friends from a dance. A young man was talking to Pansy Jr. through the window about how fucking mad he was that he got fucking kicked out of the fucking dance for no fucking reason. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, etc. So you know Pansy is LIKING this young man a whole lot. The girls are giggling and giggling and suddenly young man thinks in his (probably fucking) head "what's up?" At that point, he sees ME and goes into a ridiculous "Aw, shucks, ma'am" routine and actually said:
"I apologize, ma'am. Please excuse me. I did not mean to speak so vulgarly."
Pansy said: "Well, it's a little fucking late for that, now isn't it?"

And Flossie, take note Ladies, was quite the Man-Catcher. EVERY time Pansy would get all dolled up in a big, ratted up hairdo and go driving (which happened regularly what with all the social engagements the Pansys like to go to), men would follow her and Flossie and ask us for a "date". No shit. Especially that time Pansy was dressed up as Peg Bundy at 3am. But she has an excuse! Really! Pansy was heading for Lake Tahoe to run around the lake in a race. See?
[In case you can't tell.....Pansy is the one in the green camo tights. And feather bra. With big boobs hanging out. Over a fishnet bodystocking. With hair 3 feet in the air. And red lipstick. Okay, Okay...even Pansy agrees she looked kinda whorish THAT time! hahhahahahahha!]




Flossie lasted for 12 wonderful years. She was the Greatest Cadillac That Ever Lived. We donated her to the local car museum. She was still operational but it had become too many systemic failures for the Pansys to deal with. Pansy still blesses the day she found Flossie.

p.s. A year later, of his own volition because Pansy would NEVER ask this of anyone no matter HOW much she hated them: Mr. Pansy SOLD HIS HARLEY DAVIDSON to buy Pansy her current Little Red Car, PATSY. Who the fuck needs a "Man-Catcher Car" when she already has a Good Man like THAT sniffing around her?