Eric Bergeson: Wisdom of the aged Aunt Olive
Flew home from Tucson a few days last week for an early Christmas with family.
I discovered anew why I went to Tucson in the first place. The high temperature during my brief visit home was one degree above zero. Lows hit -25 F.
I dragged my Ford Ranger out of the shed to serve me while back home. The old pickup seemed reluctant, almost arthritic. The starter groaned. The engine died at intersections. It wasn’t the Ranger of those first 250,000 miles, that’s for sure.
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