Trevor, friend of Wildcat.

Dear Diver,
I drive a very old, beat- up Volkswagen. At a top speed of 50, he moves slow and brakes even slower.  As a VW driver, I use hand signals, go slow and sometimes even roll back on a hill. Perhaps I’m completely jaded in thinking that the entire world of drivers was aware of a VW’s quirks. Frankly, I’m tired, and a bit angry, that so many people cut me off and expect me to stop on a dime without bumpin’ them in the rear; or that they creep up on me, get cozy with my bumper, then hang out like it’s going to make me magically go faster. What can I do? 
– Just Another Rolling Soul

Dear Roller,
I know just what you mean. I drive a 2019 Porsche 918 Spyder. The standard version  features 2 Girodyne SRC43 atomic 908hp engines, (heavily modified, of course), a 17-speed insta-shift transmission with underdrive, 14-wheel anti-lock brakes, a universally integrated navigation system, Novaldex stasis-type shields with erotic overhead mounted airbags, driver and passenger shin airbags, 100-yard techno douchebag occupancy sensor,  and 140ºCTrevor, friend of Wildcat. air conditioning. I upgraded to the hexapus ink oil slick feature and Red River giant softshell turtle skin seats … but it does NOT parallel park itself because if you can’t parallel park a car, you’re a moron. I’m sorry what was your question? 
– Completely unable to relate to you, T-Rev

Dear Diver,
I’ve lived here for a few years and have noticed a strange phenomenon. I like to call it “exercise envy.” It’s this weird jealousy that seems to surface whenever one person relates his/her bike ride, trail run, play-boating session, etc. to another who, possibly from working three jobs, has not gotten their cardio quota. Usually, said folks are extremely crabby; I like to think of them as “recreationally frustrated.” I’m pretty sure there is no other place in the world where this happens. What gives? Are we all hopeless endorphin junkies?
– Sarah Tonin

Oh Sarah,
It’s so cute how you think that Durango is the only place on the planet where endorphin junkies reside. Bungee jumping or “land-diving” was invented on the other side of the world in New Zealand. Land-diving originated hundreds of years ago when a Kiwi lass who was repeatedly abused by her shitbag husband ran away. She climbed up the tallest banyan tree to escape, but he followed her. When she reached the top, she then jumped out of the tree, having been smart enough to tie vines to her ankles. Her idiot husband not noticing the vines, was astonished to see her land on her feet and threw himself after her, succeeding only in falling to his death. Maybe you should get out and see the world, my dear. Perhaps you suffer from an altogether different kind of recreational frustration? 
– More normal than truth, Trevor

Dear Diver,
The other day, I felt like I was finally starting to wear off on my Republican friends. But now, I’m worried, it might be me who is starting to think like them. Is there some sort of “conservative quotient” test I can take just to make sure I’m not slipping into Fox-newsdom?
– Deep Purple 

My Darling Deeper,
I’d like to tell you a story about a sweet lady I once knew named Lucy. Lucy was a dancer but none of us would chance her because she was a Samurai. She made electric shadows beyond our fingertips but none of us could reach that high. Lucy had a friend named Nancy. Nancy was so fancy to get into her pantry one had to be the aristocracy. So we put her on the hit list of a common cunning linguist and now she eases gently form her Austin to her Bentley. Does that answer your question?
– Knocking at your back door, Trevor