Human life on this planet requires general maintenance, of all kinds and assorted varieties.  Whether one is a city or country dweller, financially independent or living paycheck-to-paycheck, brown or white, Southern Baptist or Hasidic Jew, tall short or in between, mature or an infant, able or other bodied, LGBTQQ or undeclared, living within four walls or without a home, multilingual or mute, plain or gorgeously beautiful, argumentative or passive, a red head or bald.  It just simply does not matter.  Because in all cases, life requires general maintenance.  This general maintenance is also a requirement for our non-human friends and best buddies. 

Yesterday my car, Buster Blue, finally broke through my resistance and procrastination by chanting in an increasingly deep and manly voice, Feed Me Feed Me, Change My Oil, Bathe Me.  Anyone who doubts that cars talk to their human companions, are simply not putting on their listening ears and/or are living lives of extreme denial.  Buster Blue had had enough or in his case, not enough tender loving care.  He let me know, loud and clear and repetitively that his general maintance was overdue.  Long overdue.  So off to the car restaurant (aka gas station) and spa (aka carwash) we drove.  We ended Buster’s day of pampering with a trip to the internist (aka Jiffy Lube) for a total check of his fluid levels as well as checking his shoes (aka tires) for continued good fit (aka air pressure). 

Today, Buster Blue, is a happy dude.  I can hear him whistling a little tune from his warm room (aka garage). 

Buster reminds me that some things in life can be made all better with simple acts of attention and care, also-known-as general maintenance. 

Om.

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