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Well, it finally happened. My car finally broke down.

I’ve been standing on the side of the…210, I think? For the last two hours trying absolutely everything I can to fix the thing, but I think it is well and truly dead. Which is…inconvenient, to say the least. 

It’s not as if I can’t find another car. I just wish this would’ve happened once I’d already settled in for the night, not twenty miles from Los Angeles. But that’s never how things go, is it. You get the flat tire when its raining and you’re already having a bad day. Your coat zipper breaks just when you get down the block from your place on the coldest day of the year.

Murphy’s Law, that’s what it’s called right? Or…no, that’s “everything that can go wrong, will”. Is there a law of the universe for when something goes wrong just when its most inconvenient for it to go wrong?

Maybe that’s just the rule of my life. 

I’m sadder about this car breaking down than I thought I’d be. It’s not like I’ve even had it that long but it’s…it’s been a good, reliable companion these past—Jesus—nearly six months I’ve been gone. It’s driven three thousand miles, gone through eighteen states, been my luggage, my bed, my kitchen, my home. It’s kept me grounded in the real world during the times when I felt I might truly go insane. 

And it’s been my lifeline to you, Birdie. And you, Harry, if you’re listening. Without this car, I’d have only been able to use the CB sporadically at best. I’m just grateful that even while the engine has crapped out, the electricity is working fine still. For the time being. 

But, it’s December 30th, and I guess if there’s a good time for something to die, it’s the day before the end of the year. I can start 1975 with a fresh new car. And I have my pick of them—in Los Angeles, I bet I could find something really nice. 

I just have to get there first. I have to get myself and all my stuff into a new car, that works. 

So, I might be going quiet for the rest of the day and tomorrow too. Hopefully it won’t be longer than that. I’ll hop back on the horn once I’m in LA. 

Alright, this is Whiskey, signing off.

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