How do you know you are from
Montana? You drive motor vehicles with
cracked windshields.
For the second time in a week my
windshield took another hit from a flying rock from the car in front of
me. For the second time in a week my
windshield sustained a chip in the glass.
For the second time in a week I threw my ordination out the window and
said words that would melt the paint off of walls. The world is beginning to look like a giant
jig saw puzzle whenever I drive thanks to the growing cracks and chips that are
in the windshield.
Now there are those of you out there
who probably think that I am kidding when I say that most Montanans have
cracked windshields . . . but, I kid you not.
Not one of the three vehicles that we own is without a crack or numerous
chips or pits. The children would have
had a blast years ago connecting all the chips and pits with a marker . . . now
I just get lots of creative reflections from the sun . . . sort of like a kaleidoscope
or having way too much to drink. All
three of the vehicles have cracks.
There is no worse sound to my ears—except
maybe the sound of a flat tire—than a stone hitting the windshield. THWACK!
The louder the “thwack” the bigger the chip. A chip would not be so bad except weather in
Montana likes to go to extremes—cold and hot.
When the temperature gets below zero those chips like to expand into a
crack. When the temperature gets above a
hundred and the windshield heats up to something over a 150 degree . . . well,
those chips and pits like to move around the windshield like a drunk map
drawer.
Plus, whenever I hear a “thwack” my
mind automatically hears “ka-ching”!
Ka-ching as in a cash register ringing up another sale . . . as in money
flying out of my wallet and bank account.
That almost hurts more than the damage done to my windshield. Needless to say, I am a little tight with my
money. Yeah, my wallet squeaks when I
walk across the room. Replacing
windshields is expensive . . . multiply that by three and you can see why I
cringe every time I hear the “thwack” of a rock hitting my windshield.
So, I drive with cracked windshields .
. . at least until we get through the rock and ice season here in Montana. I think that gives me about a two-week period
in mid-July to get all three windshields replaced. But, in the meantime, I drive with cracked
windshields. Unless I am driving into
the sun it is really no problem, but when the sunlight hits those cracks just
right it is like a light show at a Rolling Stones concert. The special effects are amazing as I pray to
God that I am still in my own lane.
I have been told that law enforcement
can pull people over who have cracked windshields in Montana and issue a ticket
for being a driving nuisance. I have
heard that, but I have never seen it. I
imagine that it would be more of a hassle because law enforcement would be
pulling over just about every car and truck with a Montana license plate. They would have no time to anything but issue
tickets for cracked windshields.
Cracked windshields do not bother me
as much as they bother the wife. I think
they add a sense of character and toughness to my little Volkswagen Jetta . . .
the wife thinks that they make her Toyota Tacoma look trashy. I figure that the cracks in the Jetta reflect
the driver . . . I have been told numerous times that I am a little cracked. Not really sure what people meant by that,
but I often feel a little beat up . . . so, why not my car?
I have been having a sort of contest
with the vehicles this winter. Our Ford
Ranger was winning, but the Jetta easily caught up this week. The Tacoma is a distance third. It is hard to say who will win at this point,
but I am betting on the Jetta because it is my winter vehicle. My goal is to make it to mid-July when I
replace all the windshields without any of them falling out. It is going to be close. Ya gotta love living in Montana!
