If you have ever woken up in a completely different – and by different, I mean much worse – condition than when you went to sleep due to no fault of your own, you’ll quickly come to the conclusion that life isn’t fair. That assessment isn’t entirely without merit. Suffering at one’s own hand with instant karmic retribution, such as in the case of the dreaded “bottle flu”, can only be placed squarely upon one’s self.
Don’t pretend that you’ve never had episodes of the hands and knees supplication before the porcelain altar where something to the effect of “Please make it stop, I swear I’ll never do this again…” could be heard. Until next weekend’s frat party of course.
But that’s not what I’m talking about in this case. What I’m referring to are things like waking up and not being able to stand up straight because you threw your back out while wrestling with a dreamed demonic octopus. Or waking up with your turned head stuck at a 90 degree angle, and any attempt to rectify it causes electric shocks throughout your body. That’s always fun. As is losing the use of your arm for a few days because you fell asleep face down with it up over your head, possibly from doing a midnight breast stroke.
Some other favorites are waking up feeling like you are spinning for no good reason, going to take a step upon arising and falling down because unlike the rest of you, your leg and foot are still asleep, or finding bite marks that are an exact match with your own teeth.
This is all coming to mind because of my recent run-ins with nocturnal injustice.
Three nights ago, I was pulling the covers up as I was turning over, and as my hand slipped, my thumbnail gouged a piece out of the end of my nose. It’s still missing. There’s just a divot where the very tip of my nose should be. Not that it matters much, I never really found that piece of my nose to be all that functional anyway. While it wasn’t a big deal at the time, the bloody mess on my pillowcase and the unsightly scab where I literally defaced myself tells a slightly different story. Regardless, a little work on my schnoz with a dab of silicone caulk and some sandpaper, and I’ll be good to go.
I won’t go into significant detail of slicing my tongue that same evening while over-enthusiastically licking a knife I just sharpened. Apparently successfully remaining unharmed in this regard is all a matter of angles, and as it turns out that was the quiz I had failed in geometry.
Two nights ago, I was again pulling my sheets up to a point where my face entered the crossfire. So since you didn’t ask before, I’m going to tell you why I was trying to keep thoroughly covered. A mosquito got into my bedroom. It was so hungry and relentless, that I was flailing away ineffectually every 5 minutes or so for all but the one hour of the night when I went to sleep on the couch in the other room.
The high pitched humming would come perfectly timed so that there was no sleeping to be had. Diabolically, every time I turned on the light it somehow managed to disappear into an alternate universe. At one point I brought my flashlight to bed to try and nab the interloper in the act. All to no avail.
Meanwhile I was sweating mightily under the sheet pulled up to my nose and the pillow over my head. It reminded me of the African proverb “If you think you are too small to make a difference, you haven’t spent the night with a mosquito.” While I can’t say with certainty how much of a difference I make, I can tell you that mosquito turned me into a zombie the next day. At least I didn’t get bitten by the disease spreader.
Strangely however, while everything was physiologically normal when I went to bed down on the sofa, an hour and a half later when I got up, it was as if I upset a bouncer at a small-town nightclub culminating in a shiner and an eyelid big enough to cover both of my eyes. I’ve never had such an inexplicable, unusual, and rapidly progressing enlargement, particularly on my face. But at least it didn’t get any worse during the day.
That night, the mosquito which had disappeared during the day (of course) also returned for an encore. Fortunately it only showed up for two rousing rounds of trying to enter my left ear canal, but thankfully left me alone thereafter. In the morning I found that monocular vision isn’t as effective or desirable as binocular vision as my eye swelled further shut.
Gratefully I found not just one but three mosquitos sitting on the inside of the window screen, and with the one good eye and two good hands, was able to free them from this mortal coil. I’m guessing they were taking turns harassing me those two nights, and while I’m not typically aggressive, I honestly served that dish of revenge cold.
Last night I finally got some sleep but am more exhausted than previously, possibly because my eye is still infected. The antibiotics that I’ve needed to help the process along were likely drop ship items from China, as not a single drug store in my city has it on hand. Surely focal infections requiring a topical medication can’t be all that uncommon. Meanwhile, the eye is healing all on its own, and surely medical science will cheer that this antibiotic, should it ever arrive, was my saving grace.
So what does all of this have to do with cars?
Today when I looked in the mirror I was reminded of when I had a 1989 Acura Integra with pop-up headlights, one of which froze in the upright position during a cold Minnesota winter. If you never had a car with pop-up headlights, you don’t know the joys of tucking them away. I always liked the idea of keeping them concealed from a design perspective, but also to avoid being broken by stones. Then again, if you had them and didn’t live in cooler climates, you aren’t aware of how they might freeze in position. Which is what happened to mine.
The correct way to avoid freezing them in odd positions or worse yet, in the down position, is to keep the lights locked in the upright position. In my car, there was a little motor lock out switch so that when you turned the headlights on and off, the headlight housings wouldn’t go up and down. They just stayed up. Apparently I forgot to do that on one occasion…like the time when it got below freezing in May in the godforsaken tundra of rural Minnesota.
So if you have pop up headlights either lock them out all winter, (and spring and half the summer if you live up north) or move to a warmer climate, which is what I did. But you have to admit, pop-up headlights really can streamline the look of a front end. In the case of this car, you get both the streamlined front end and a vehicle that has lived a life of leisure in the balmy tropical weather of south Florida.
So I present to you today a pair of pop-up headlights attached to a gorgeous red Ferrari Mondial. By the way, that is pronounced “Mon-DEE-al” not “Mon-DIAL” This particular car has just over 33,000 miles and is coated in rosso corsa (Italian racing red) over a tan leather interior.
The Mondial is a convertible 2+2 grand tourer with a mid mounted V8 mated to a manual 5-speed transmission which should be good for a 0-60 run in the low 6-second range. Appropriately for a Ferrari, it has a gated shifter with dogleg pattern. Seller states that this prancing horse has a clean title, is in extremely good condition, well maintained, and has always been garage kept.
Of note, the Mondial was penned by Leonardo (no, not THAT Leonardo) Fioravanti of Pinninfarina, and was the last mid-engine V-8, rear-wheel-drive 2+2 offered by Ferrari. As long as you don’t fall asleep and freeze your headlight motors, take a piece off the end of your nose, slice your tongue, or lock yourself in with a bunch of mosquitoes, the sound of that V8 behind you and the wind in your hair will surely offer the rewards you so desire out of this Italian stallion.
You can find out more about this 1985 Ferrari Mondial by clicking HERE to take you to the original Craigslist listing.