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Here’s to Classy Garbage

Last week after I mentioned Howard Beale’s speech from the movie Network, I got this from a reader:  

‘Speaking of leaning out the window....I'm reminded of Jason Robards in 1000 Clowns...  
  
Murray: [Leans out his apartment window] This is your neighbor speaking. I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say that something must be done about your Garbage cans in the alley here.  
[raises voice]  
Murray: It is definitely second-rate garbage. Now, by next week I want to see a better class of garbage, more empty champagne bottles and caviar cans! I'm sure you're all behind me on this. So let's snap it up and get on the ball!  

Last Saturday I should have asked for two brochures from the Tesla Dealership so I could throw one in the garbage. That would be Classy Garbage. I'm now working on emptying a champagne bottle.  

On Saturday my youngest daughter and I traveled to Portland. We stopped along the way to take in a Tiny House show, and then on up to our newly discovered favorite lunch, the Thai Lettuce Wraps at the Cheesecake Factory. All the vegetables are so fresh, the chicken is seared just right, and the three sauces make it perfect. I suppose it’s meant to be an appetizer, but we each order one. It’s our main meal.  

El Yumo 

After lunch, we wandered into the Mall and I was attracted to a fiery red Tesla car sitting in an open showroom. A red car with snow=white seats, jazzy. As I was snapping a picture of the dash--that had no dials, no speedometer, no clock, no anything except a slit that was the air vent.  


  
Oh, there was a display Screen in the center larger than my laptop's. Now there’s a GPS I can see while driving. 

All car controls, except for steering and gas are done on the screen. Oh, it will do that too. That car will drive itself and skitter into a parking place without any help from you. (You do need to take hold of the steering once in a while so they know you’re still alive.)  

As I sat there figuring I ought to up my prosperity consciousness, a salesman slipped beside me into the passenger seat and asked if I wanted an explanation of the car.   

Okay.  

He proceeded to explain the bells and whistles that came standard on that car. It never needs maintenance he said, it never needs the brakes replaced, and it will travel 350 miles on an electric charge. If you are sitting in a restaurant and it gets to be 110 degrees outside, and who knows how hot inside your car, simply remotely set the car's temperature at say 72, and a cool car will be waiting for you.   

“What about a dog in the car?" I asked. Well, that’s taken care of too, set the temperature, the battery will run the air conditioner, and a notice will pop up on that mammoth display screen, “Dog in car. The temperature inside is 68 degree.” Anyone snooping through the window, or a policeman checking, will see that you have taken care of everything.   

Drive up to Mt. Hood and use about 65% of your battery, upon driving back down you get back about 35%. As it is charging while coasting. 

“How much does the car cost,” I asked.  

“Forty thousand,” he said.  

“What?” I exclaimed,” that’s less expensive than the Chevy Silverado I looked at last week.”  



This post first appeared on Wish On White Horses, please read the originial post: here

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Here’s to Classy Garbage

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