Today, I am almost cool. I have an iPod.

My charming daughters not only gave me an iPod already loaded with 1,206 songs, but some sort of miraculous device which allows the songs to be played through the car FM radio.

Of course, the 1,206 songs were not what I would have ordered. They included Nebula, Roadsaw, Screaming Trees and Tenacious D. But then again, I learned that I actually like AC/DC. Who knew? “Highway to Hell” is one of those songs you turn on when you are feeling a little drowsy at the wheel.

Wham. Another 300 miles.

“Dirty Deeds, Done Dirt Cheap?” another 200 miles. The next thing you know, you end up in Rocky Mount, N.C.

My beloved offspring could not have known how very valuable the iPod would be. They thought it would be good just for the planned 1,300-mile trip to Frank’s new home in Palatka Fla., not on an unscheduled return trip as well.

I drove Frank’s wheezing, 1997 Mazda 626 with only 256,000 miles to his new Florida home. Did I mention the constantly blinking engine light? Frank has such a fleet of vehicles that he had more cars than drivers. Being of unsound mind, I volunteered to deliver it south for him.

I have a very, very light schedule.

Well the car, complete with windshield E-ZPass, performed magnificently, granting a classy 33 miles per gallon all the way to Palatka. Compared to my gas-guzzling Tundra and its 17 mpg appetite, the Mazda was a dream.

Except for that blinking engine light.

Well, we spent a few leisurely days around Frank’s pool. Then it was time for me to return to Cobb Manor since one of my newest roommates had been lost in the fog.

Honest to God.

As I was languishing in the pool, I thought about the 28-hour, $260, one-way trip on Amtrak to get back to Maine. Flying was out of the question, of course. (Do you have any idea how high those things fly? How fast they go?)

I had a rare idea.

“Frank, suppose you sell that Mazda to me and I drive that home?”

It was an idea that made no sense at all. Why didn’t I make the suggestion on Frank’s porch in Gorham, some 1,300 miles before? Why would I drive a car 1,300 miles to Florida, then buy it and drive it another 1,300 miles to get home?

Since it made not a drop of sense, Frank loved the idea.

But he wanted $2,000 for a car with 256,000 miles on it. He assumed that since he drove all those miles, that made the Mazda an instant classic. Since I was saving him the Amtrak fare, we settled on $1,700.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that blinking engine light,” Frank said, warming to the sale. “That has been blinking for about 50,000 miles. The dealer said it’s the catalytic converter.”

So I cranked the Mazda up, after shoveling out nine years of Frank flotsam. The car, blinking engine light and all, performed magnificently all the way home. Did I mention that Frank left his E-ZPass on the windshield?

But of course Frank got the last laugh. When I went to register the Mazda in Camden they asked where the title might be.

“Title? I think It’s somewhere in my garage, in one of my 63 boxes,” Frank said from the Florida pool.

Sigh.

At least I have the iPod and Tenacious D.

Send complaints and compliments to Emmet Meara at emmetmeara@msn.com.