I can now check one more thing off the list.

I celebrated today’s unseasonable warmth.

Oops.

I screwed up. I knew better, but I did it anyway.

For the last two and a half months, I drove my Outback in the salt and snow while my BMW hibernated in the garage. That’s fine; the Outback is a great winter car — it even has heated seats!

The problem occurred today when I fired up the BMW in celebration of the warm, sunny weather. I slipped behind the wheel, turned the key, and sped off into the yonder. It was bliss. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and I think that applies to cars. The BMW is so much quieter, quicker, and more luxurious than the Outback that the difference really is like night and day. It is an esoteric joy. I loved every minute of the drive — and there’s the rub.

You see, I have been thinking about selling the BMW for about two years now. Unfortunately, every time I’m just about to convince myself to part ways with the car, I have a really good drive in it, the kind of drive that reminds me why I bought it in the first place, and I decide that I can’t live without it. That scenario has repeated itself dozens of times. My mistake this time was that I once again drove it before listing it.

There are forums dedicated to these cars, and of mine (a 540i) in particular, there is a common saying. To paraphrase, if you’re thinking about buying one, don’t. Run away. Run away as fast as you can. If you take a test drive, you’ll fall in love with it, and you’ll buy it, and it will bleed you dry.

It starts small. Gas. Car wash. Wax to keep it shiny. Then it gets a little more expensive. Oil changes with synthetic oil and factory filters. Surprisingly expensive interior plastic bits. Insurance rates worthy of an exotic V-8 being driven by a young male. Still not so bad, but then the real pain begins.

Thousand-dollar sets of tires that will last less than 20,000 miles. New spark plugs — eight of them — at twelve dollars a pop. Hundred-dollar oxygen sensors — four of them. The list goes on. The point is that maintenance is expensive. Expensive, but worth every penny. That’s why it’s so hard to get rid of it.

Regardless, I subscribe to the school of thought that says it is better to experience perfection and lose it than to never experience it at all, so I do not regret my purchase. I only hope that I can bring myself to sell it before I once again succumb to its sweet song.

Spring is in the air. The sun is shining, the snow is melting, and the jackets are resting in the closets. It reached 48 degrees at my house today, two degrees shy of a record, and the temperature got me thinking about my plans for the summer.

The high-level list goes something like this:

• Convert my easy button into a magic 8-ball easy button
• Bike at least 1000 miles
• Attend some type of goalie camp or lessons
• Backpack Isle Royale for about five days
• Backpack on the Superior Hiking Trail a couple of times during weekend excursions

The last two items on the list hint at what’s been on my mind this weekend. Visits to Philmont and the BWCA sealed my love of the outdoors when I was younger, and I want to re-engage in those activities while I’m still able. There are few things more relaxing than being out on the trail in a forest, beyond the reach of cell phones and the Internet, with everything required for survival strapped to one’s back.

Yet another article has appeared in the mainstream media about my company’s deep brain stimulators.  There’s a neat slideshow associated with the article that features some good intraoperative photos including one of a hole being drilled in the patient’s skull.