\n
![\"\"](\"http:\/\/commotioninthepews.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/07\/theheadclown-300x225.jpg\" "\\"theheadclown\\"")
<\/a>Clown Car<\/p><\/div><\/p>\n
I wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not, but it became painfully obvious that he was dead serious. It took a few tries to get in past the opening. I was reminded of my days on submarines. I would have been called a “hatch plug” because I filled the hatch and you could submerge the ship with that tight a fit in the opening. My elderly, recently operated on, knees didn’t like it much either. I had the wheel all the way up, the seat all the way back, and I still had to twist and turn to get in. <\/p>\n
Once inside it wasn’t much better. My head touched the ceiling. No, make that: My head was two inches higher than the roof when I sat up straight. It meant I would be driving hunched down. I couldn’t straighten my legs or arms, and I was more snugly inserted into the driver’s seat than Andre The Giant <\/a>in the cockpit of a Kaiten<\/a>. <\/p>\n As I drove away the service manager ran out to the car. When I stopped and powered the window down he stood a few feet back and tossed an aerosol can through the open window. “Take this, it will make it easier to get in next time.” It was a can of “Pam.”<\/a><\/p>\n My transit home was frightening. I couldn’t see much out of the windows. It was rather like driving a Panzer II<\/a> and only having the driver’s slit to peer through – small windows, bad angles, and low view point. I figured my outlook was skewed until I pulled in to my garage and had to look up to see the top of my lawnmower. Not kidding, it sat lower than the handle on the Lawn-boy<\/a>. And, amazingly enough, it had the same engine. <\/p>\n After extricating myself from the soda can I creaked inside the house and went to bed.<\/p>\n That night I left a bit early for work so that I could grab something to eat. My choice was reduced to places that had drive-through service, because I knew I’d never get out and back in without the can of Pam. I’d left it on the counter.<\/p>\n Happily I survived the brush with claustrophobia. Upon returning the car to the dealership the next morning I was relieved to see Bobo <\/a>and his crew ready to take it back and give me my beloved red beast. It did inform my next purchase in the automotive world: anything but that little clown car.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"