In 2007 we bought a Toyota Sienna mini-van. It came to be known as "The Clown Car," because it was frequently crammed with people—usually actors (most of whom could, by at least one definition, be considered clowns). It was red—not a bright, gaudy red, but a classy-looking shade of red called "Salsa Red Pearl." It was the vehicle I drove to work every day.
On most of those days, on most of my route between our neighborhood and my office in the next town, I found myself following an identical 2007 Salsa-Red-Pearl Sienna.
Pretty Twilight Zoney, right? Hang on. It gets even Twilight Zonier.
About a year and a half ago, the Clown Car was in a high-speed freeway accident involving a pickup truck towing a deflated bounce house on a trailer. (That in itself is a story, but it's a story for another time.) If I had been driving, we would probably be dead. Fortunately Loretta was driving, and thanks to her quick reflexes, no one was hurt.
The Clown Car, however, was totaled.
We decided to replace it with a smaller vehicle because, since I have pretty much retired from acting, I no longer find myself needing to haul carloads of clowns around. The Clown Car's replacement is a 2016 Honda CR-V. It's gray—not a dull, boring gray, but a classy-looking shade of gray called "Modern Steel Metallic." It's the vehicle I now drive to work every day.
About the same time the Clown Car was taken out of circulation, I stopped seeing the other Salsa-Red-Pearl Sienna on my way to work. Then I began to notice that, on most days, on most of my route, I was following a 2016 Modern-Steel-Metallic Honda CR-V.
Yesterday, while stopped at a light, I managed to get a picture of its license plate frame:
