Not long after we moved to Villa Rica, there began to be talk about using golf carts on the streets. We were going to be the next Peachtree City. We'd pop over to the local grocery store and I would see people tooling around from the subdivision around the corner. That seemed like a fun idea, and since we lived right in town, I had visions of grandkids and I whizzing about in our own little vehicle. Golf has never been a realistic game for our family -- it seems to me a mysterious life full of money, lots of clingy, collared sports shirts and boring conversations about imaginary birds. All over a little tiny ball that has to cover lots of ground and drop into a miniscule hole. No offense to those who have attained the ability to play it. They say it's almost addictive, it's so enjoyable. I've known a few Golf Widows.
I've also found that there's an entire culture around the carts that carry people around to those little holes on the golf course. There are utilitarian ones, though those are inevitably the ancient models that are still limping. Very rare and apparently expensive to maintain. Why not just take out a second mortgage on your house and get a new one? Well, we don't do new. We do cheap.
I began scouring Facebook Marketplace for a used golf cart. Some slick Eastern European gentleman in Peachtree City persuaded me to purchase one such ancient E-Z-Go model. The charger didn't work once I got it home, but he did at least provide another one. That should have been a clue. Ken named her "Maggie" -- a shortened version of the name of our house (Magnolia Rose). She started out a scuffed-up navy blue, with all sorts of plastic curtains hanging around her. A few years later, when our son Daniel and his family lived with us, he stripped all the extra stuff off her, painted her a jaunty red and black (even with him being a Tech fan) and applied party lights and safety gear. We began acquiring stickers from the places we visited and plastering them to her red self.
You take your life into your own hands when you decide to travel the streets of Villa Rica in this manner. The grandkids think it's the best thing since sliced bread. They know the drill: buckle up buttercup and hang on. I have been known to resort to the sidewalks when traffic is high. We're supposed to only travel on the 25 mph streets, but sometimes have to cross the other ones. It's high adventure on a Saturday night. Lunch dates with girlfriends and my family often include a whirlwind tour of the town. It's so much fun I can hardly stand it.
There's been a great deal of prayer involved with Maggie. You're never quite sure that she's going to make it back. I've found myself stuck in the middle of traffic or on the side of the road too many times. It is no fun to be hauled off the street by any of my enterprising sons who seem to always have ropes and contraptions available in their trucks for such breakdowns. Why would we get a trailer or a wrecker, when it's so convenient to just pull Mama home with a handy vehicle? Somebody has to steer for that, and you can guess who that is.
Over the years, we've put a good bit of money into keeping her limping. Lately, she's been completely MIA because none of us could figure out what was wrong. We finally surrendered and took her to the shop, where she stayed for weeks without a diagnosis. $250 and a lame repair left us worse off than before, but a different shop and two days later we had the answer. Her engine was fried and the repairs were not worth it to us to try to keep her going. After much gnashing of teeth, we traded her for a new model, the "Eco" model, which sounds like it might have something to do with economy but I don't think it does. We don't buy new, but yes we did. What it does have is sparkling, state-of-the-art everything and a two year warranty. Maybe I won't be as easy a target for big trucks barreling around the corners of our town now and we can keep our little ones a bit safer when we take to the road.
Either way, everyone's delighted and wanting to take a spin. Golf carts are a whole lot slower than motorcycles, so I have a new idea for a bumper sticker: Check THRICE - Save a Life - Golf Carts Are Everywhere.
I sincerely doubt it's going to help.
No comments:
Post a Comment