Everywhere I go I find a pal

Peter Weinschenk, Editor, The Record-Review

I took my wife, Susan, on a COVID-19 safe date on Sunday. We took our grime-crusted Volvo station wagon to the Edgar Car Wash and enjoyed watching a winter’s worth of salt, dirt and other schmutz disappear down the drain.

After a year of pandemic isolation, it was enjoyable just for us to go anywhere as a couple. We revelled in pulling up to the automatic car wash selector kiosk and sending dollar bills into the machine.

I selected the “gold” level wash. This includes the standard top spray and wash and an undercarriage spritz, but also a wax job. I thought it fine to splurge on the wax. After all, my wife and I were on a date.

Once inserting the cash and pushing the button for “gold” wash, we saw a green light flash and an automatic door open. Other green lights urged us forward.

Both Susan and I were very excited. This was the most fun we’ve had in months.

I am an experienced dater and this was not my first rodeo. So, I knew that to have a successful date, you have to set the mood with music.

So, I tossed a compact disc in the Volvo’s player. The lush classic jazz sounds of Ella Fitzgerald boomed from our surroundsound speakers as she sang about the City of Love, Paris: I love Paris in the springtime.

I love Paris in the fall.

I love Paris in the summer when it sizzles.

I love Paris in the winter when it drizzles.

At the very mention of “drizzles,” the spray nozzles inside the car wash squirted our Swedish-made car. White globules of suds covered our vehicle.

Then the car wash went into overdrive. Large plastic bars began moving all around our vehicle, spraying the car with forceful gushers of water. It was a virtual ballet of large plastic arms dancing about the car in a complicated choreography. I saw a small wave of blackish water tumble down my back window.

I looked at my wife. “Better than Netflix, eh?” I said.

But this wild ride had barely started. With the car cleansed of road salt and dirt, the car wash squirted liquid wax all over the vehicle.

On the windshield, this wax started as purple, but, sliding down the windshield separated into yellows and greens and blues. It was psychedelic, wonderful and beautiful. The colors swirled in front of our eyes. It was mesmerizing.

Ella Fitzgerald must of liked it, too. She crooned: I love Paris every moment Every moment of the year. I love Paris, oh why do I love Paris Because my love is here.

Taking a key from the lyrics, I leaned over and gave my wife a kiss on the cheek. This was my first kiss ever in a car wash. I felt good about it, though. We were on a date, after all.

The car wash swept away all of the wax with powerful jets of water. The car’s sunroof couldn’t handle it. Both my wife and I got wet with drips of water that fell inside the car front seat area.

A green light urged us to drive onward to a huge blower. This fan dried off the car with the force of a powerful wind. We watched water droplets skedaddle off the waxed windshield.

My wife and I looked at each other and smiled.

We were riding in a clean car, it was spring and we were together.