Caught in the web of dismay.  Although the day began profitably – that is, I tore back the duvet prior to nine o’clock this morning – and then gratifyingly I set upon my red Pronto tricycle for the customary jaunt about the neighbourhood (joined by my partner to boot), things afterwards began to dissolve and disquiet rather steeply.

My heartfelt perturbation is nonetheless remarkably irrelevant. The shameless substance of my brooding today is yet another passenger automobile. The automotive retail market is currently drenched in the output of EVs. And while I have already made the decision to define my driving by EVs, there is a tiny competing factor called size which seriously inhibits the choice.  Today for example I attended Bean Cars in Carleton Place where, with the very capable assistance of Toren Waitman, I briefly drove a Chevrolet Bolt, one of the few all-electric vehicles in the GM line up. Its appeal is its diminished size, compared even to the Cadillac Optiq (which is their entry level SUV). The price of the Bolt is substantially below that of the Optiq. Yet the friction remains, not especially to adjust to a smaller vehicle but one less extravagant. It naturally defeats the purpose of the enterprise to undertake an undesirable model whatever the characteristics may be. The bottom line – aside from the price difference between the new and the old vehicle – is preservation of the appeal that radiates from the drive. Certainly I have, from a distance, admired the sportiness of many of the smaller vehicles on the road. Yet I remain confined to the “living room on wheels” character of the Cadillac. Mr. Waitman unabashedly agreed with me that, “You get what you pay for!”

I suppose it is herein that lies the real consternation; namely, is it time to adapt to the exigencies of old age? The truth of the matter in a nutshell is that, in many respects, “smaller is better”.  It would most certainly facilitate parking in our subterranean garage. There is admittedly a tendency too for older folks such as I to conduct the drive of a large automobile with more flexibility than required; and, most certainly, less ingenuity than driving a smaller vehicle.

Before concluding this comic disaster, permit me to observe in addition that, with the effluxion of time, I am bound to confess more and more the utility (and safety) of a smaller vehicle.  It might be arguable that a larger vehicle is “safer” in the event of an accident but that may extend the resolution beyond its scope.

It is to my discredit that I have thus consumed another day, the first day of summer.  I have no doubt, my dear Reader, that you have little if any tolerance for such repeated commercial self-absorption. Nor will I baldly presume to disguise my seeming lack of interest in the well-being of our community. May I say however that both are extremes. I am entirely unaccustomed to bickering about a price; and changing the make and model of a vehicle is never easy because there are so many new buttons to learn.

Bill, the charm of this piece lies in the fact that the “crisis” is so magnificently disproportionate to the actual stakes involved. A man who has survived the legal profession, the passage of decades, and the indignities of aging finds himself brought low by the dimensions of an electric automobile. There is something wonderfully human in that. I have preserved the self-mockery while tightening the prose and drawing the humour out a little more deliberately.