Mizewells

“The original cost of the house had been $2.6 million, but because of inflation and what the architect and the contractor had come to call Piers’ ‘mizewells,’ its final cost had topped out at $4.9 million. The mizewells were Pier’s unchecked proclivity to suggest, in the form of an order that ‘we mizewell use marble instead of tile, and while we’re at it, we mizewell put in another bathroom over there.” Source: Ross Thomas. (1978). Chinaman’s Chance. New York. Simon & Schuster. p. 16.

I am planning on a road trip soon to visit relatives. I know what some of you may be thinking, why not fly? But I don’t want to fly. The thought of flying right now is physically repugnant to me. I’d rather have a root canal with no anesthetic than fly?

Besides a road trip will be fun I thought. Six days, 3,000 miles round trip. Gas is cheap. It should be fun. To make sure the journey is as enjoyable as possible, I needed to get work done on my battered 1994 Toyota pickup. My truck’s name is Miriam (yes, I am one of those people who name their vehicles). So I took Miriam to an oil change shop for an oil change. I had a coupon for an $18.99 oil change. What a deal! Normally when I go to chain oil change shops all I get is an oil change, but I had a coupon for $5 off Bosch wiper blades. So when the guy at the shop suggested that I might need new wiper blades, I pointed to my coupon for Bosch wiper blades and then asked, “how much do the Bosch blades, cost?”

“Twenty-five dollars each,” he replied. Miriam has a Kelly Blue Book value of approximately $1600. I didn’t think that wiper blades that were equivalent to 3% of Miriam’s book value a good buy. The oil change guy said he had wipers for $8.99. Mizewell put ‘em on says I. While the oil change was in progress they suggested this and that and by the time they drove my car out the bay, my $19 oil change with mizewells had ballooned to $43.86.

Next, I went to a Bakersfield institution, the Tire Guy to get my tires rotated for free. I’ve done business with the Tire Guy for nearly 20 years so I told him “I’m driving about 3,000 miles are my tires in shape of the journey?” “They’re about due (for a change),” he replied. So I said the magic words, "mizewell give me some new ones.” When the Tire Guy was through my mizewell had cost me $264.80.

As I was leaving the Tire Guy, I saw I was just a half block away from a car stereo place aptly called Autosounds. Now I have a nice stereo cassette player that was a 2001 birthday gift from my mother. But there was a tape jammed in the player. I really didn’t want to drive 3000 miles across the barren desert with only a radio for company. I decided see what it would cost to get a cd player installed.

Into Autosounds I go. I told the owner that I was pricing a new cd player. He happened to have one on sale for $89. If it had been $90 I wouldn’t bought it. So I thought it over for all of five seconds and said “mizewell put one in.” Forty minutes later, I had $135.45 worth of new radio/cd player in my truck. It was an interesting morning. I go out to get a $19 oil change and thanks to “mizewells” I had spent $444.11.

Then came a bizarre moment where I went to Expedia.com and priced airline tickets from LAX to my destination. This was masochism pure and simple. Why compare the cost of driving to flying when you’d rather have a root canal with no anesthetic than fly? Because as the dictionary says, I derive “pleasure, or the tendency to derive pleasure, from being humiliated or mistreated, either by another or by oneself.”

The cost was $368. If I took the airport shuttle the total cost would be $418. I would arrive at my destination in 8 hours instead of three days. There was no need to figure out the cost of gas, meals and lodging would be for the trip. I have some self esteem and felt no need for additional humiliation. So the next time I consider a road trip to visit relatives, I mizewell fly.

Capitano Tedeschi

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