CHAPTER ONE I maneuver my silver Mazda Miata MX-5 to the middle of the tiny parking space numbered 109. The Miata’s new, dent-free. I love it. I can’t believe I have to park, no squeeze, between an old Camry and a truck that looks like it belongs to a meth-addicted landscaper. Not long ago the Miata rested happily and safely between a hunter green Jag and a midnight black BMW… Read More