The winds were howling like demons that had been unchained after millennia and which Satan let out to play. The rain was pouring down in such torrents that at first glance it appeared as though it were a wall of water. The desert drank as much as it could and then small seas appeared on the sands and the roads were flooded. Homes built on the "A elevation", the uninteresting flat elevation, were being flooded in some areas too.

I visit the dealership, and the owner is expecting me. I have been a pretty good customer and in this economy, those are harder to come by.

"I've been told what happened to your car and I can understand you are not happy about it. It's really an aberration, but you and I both know you won't be happy with a rebuild or a transplanted engine. I wouldn't be either. Since you've been a very good customer I wanted to offer you a straight exchange with another car in our inventory."

I'm thinking to myself, that I must have spent way too much here already, because no owner ever bites the bullet like that. Then I realize he will be transplanting an engine in it anyway and selling it with "dealer miles" for much the same price, and will barely be out much, if anything asides perhaps his cost for the engine.

"Sounds good. I guess I'll take a look around."

I wish I had brought Tech7 with me, for as much as I know about cars, she knows double. But then there would be no surprise when I pull up to her door to pick her up for the Christmas party.

I look at the Porsches, but have lost my appetite for them. When a woman betrays her master once, there's no trusting her again real soon. I look at the used vehicles and its a cornucopia of exotics, from Ferraris to Aston Martins and everything inbetween. No salesmen bother me. They simply observe at a distance as they know they are unlikely to get any more commission from this transaction. A Bugatti Veyron sits in another part of the showroom on it's own slowly rotating pedestal. At 1.4 million it's highway robbery, even by exotic standards.

A black Lamborghini Gallardo Spyder peaks out from a row of Lamborghinis. It has a bright red interior and the wheels are both chrome with anodized red accents. I look at the price sticker to see what sort of ballpark I'm looking at. $247,000. That wouldn't be a straight exchange.

I spot something else. Something I haven't seen in ages. A red Aston Martin Volante Convertible DB6 circa 1988. White interior with red piping. 32,432 miles. I always thought these cars looked something like a sixties Ford Mustang, which is not surprising since that's when the design first appeared, but time has been very kind to it and it looks better now - like the relaxed big brother of these newer and smaller supercars. A quick glance at the sticker in the window tells me I'm not just in the ballpark, but could ask for a full tank of premium unleaded to go with it. The wood on the dash is exquisite and the chrome knobs and doodads are a refreshing change from the plastic, soulless interiors of many of todays vehicles.

An hour later I am on the road in my "new" Aston Martin. The dealer was thrilled at my selection and indeed did give me a full tank of premium and a years supply of "Zymol" an upscale car wax, which now sits in the boot. I can't help but feel I got the better of the bargain as I experience the workmanship and substance of this Aston. The 325 hp is not lightning fast but if I let some of the vehicle techs massage it over, I'm sure they can get me another 100 horsepower out of it, without half trying.

My cell rings, twenty minutes later as I navigate the drenched highways and enjoy the pitter patter of rain on the fabric top. It is Fred Thompson's new, as yet undeclared, campaign manager, Karl Rove.

"There's going to be some big announcements over the next few weeks. You may want to clear your schedule for a video tele-conference tomorrow. He also wants another speech which addresses the mental health bit. Hillary's team is already going to use it as a springboard for her healthcare initiative. Obambi is staring into Hillary's headlights and is already roadkill. We need a great speech and we need it soon."

"Okay. I'll get on it."

"Oh, and I'm sorry about your car. Real shame. Glad you got a replacement."

I wonder how in Hades he knew I had trouble with my car, much less that I already had selected a replacement. Then I realize they have been using my cell phone to sat-track me, monitor my calls and possibly even used my cell phone as a passive receiver. It's an atrocious invasion of privacy, and a waste of resources, but that's Rove's style - letting you know he is on the pulse of all events. Showing emotion or reacting is what he wants to see, and I never give him that pleasure.

"So what do you think, she a beaut..aint she?"

"Yeah, if you're into that sort of thing."

Rove isn't into cars or technology whatsoever. He is a Landrover/ Volvo person who lives for the "gotchas" he can orchestrate. For now, he is busy orchestrating Hillary's defeat and he alleges it is the toughest campaign he has yet to work on. That is where he gets his comfort and enjoyment, outwitting his competition. And it's true, fighting the winds of change is the toughest of campaigns. Fortunately, Hillary is anything but a new commodity and her manipulations which have made her a shoe-in for the Democratic ticket also make defeating the Democrats that much easier. She and her people have already done half of Rove's work for him.

"I'll work on the speech tonight. I'll have something ready by 3AM PST."

"Great. Oh...drive carefully."

"Always."

I hang up and I make a mental note to replace my phone with one with a battery cut off switch so I can avoid future passive privacy invasions.

The rain has created huge torrents alongside the curbs. The drainage system here is completely incapable of draining the stuff for hours after these monsoon based flash floods. I navigate the left lanes and let the trucks and the soak their brake drums and pads with the water.

To the west, the clouds have parted and the sunlight streaks through with a half dozen or more "divine" rays of light.

It is a portent of things to come.

;-)