If I remember my mythologies correctly, the phoenix is a creature that rises triumphantly from the ashes of its predecessor.

Recall that my car recently (and spectacularly) burned to a crisp.  Ouch.  With insurance check in hand, I set out to find a replacement — generally looking for one of similar vintage, color, mileage, etc., because I had loved the old one and hoped to keep it forever.  Well, I’m back on the road.  Crazy part?  The replacement I found is the hotrod version (SL55), so I’ve got (pointlessly) 493 horsepower raring to go, which will really come in handy with my drag racing.  I guess I’ll name it Phoenix.  (Are cars supposed to have girl names like boats?  And is Phoenix a boy name or a girl name anyway?)

Wow.  Last weekend (Labor Day weekend), I drove to Austin (or at least started that direction).  There were wildfires near Bastrop, and the highway closed — you could see the smoke and flames just a mile or so from where I had to U-turn.  Traffic was chaos as about 1,000 cars and I (I’m probably exaggerating) headed up a small road toward highway 290.  Soon, traffic was stopped again, and this time as I U-turned, my car was hit in the back right-hand side by a truck coming the opposite direction.  Not a huge impact, but a good thump that knocked the car to the roadside.  I was fine, and quickly hopped out to check with the other driver (who was also fine).

About 2-3 minutes later, as I stood 30 yards or so from my car talking to the other driver, a gawking passerby pointed at my car and yelled, “That car’s on fire!”  Indeed it was. (And completely independent of the wild fires that happened to be raging just a few miles away).  Standing there empty-handed in shorts and flip-flops, there was nothing I could do but watch.  It pretty much burned to a crisp.  Sadly, there are no pictures — my phone (the only camera I’d have had with me) was in the car, whose charred remains were towed away just as I left.  I wound up hitchhiking to the next town with the folks I’d had a wreck with.  I borrowed a phone to call my friend Scott, who heroically drove 2 hours to rescue me from the Smithville convenience store parking lot.

Adding insult to the injury:  it had a personalized Texas license plate.  Red and white:  “SOONERS”. (Remember: this happened on the way to Austin).