Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crappy Car Keys

Expecting a review, perhaps?

I have too much anger at inanimate objects for that right now. Brace yourself, because all of the talk of keys and ignitions sounds like innuendo.

About six weeks ago, my car key began responding to the Corolla's ignition as if I tried to start a different car.

Grabbing the spare key, I didn't think about the moody ignition again until a few weeks ago when I left the spare at home. I half-expected to walk the three miles back from Target after emptying my cache of swear words at the unresponsive key. It took 10 minutes of such constructive behavior to finally hit the sweet spot and motor away.

Now, the backup has become equally useless, not even sliding completely into the ignition. When it does, it clicks and refuses to budget, almost encouraging me to grow angry enough to break it and immobilize the Corolla.

No such luck, keys - I'm not so angry these days. But I'm getting there.

The 10-minute struggle became a regular routine on almost every driving excursion. In the Walgreen's parking lot, it threatened to turn into a 15 or 20-minute ordeal.

With that, I could not delay any longer.

This morning, I had enough and burned down a locksmith shop to improve my mood .... actually, I left the car and those two useless keys with the dealership.

Whether newly cut keys, a new ignition or a locksmith rebuilding the entire thing, I can't wait until these artifacts leave my hands and the trusty Corolla roars to life on the turn of a wrist.

Maybe I'll give the old keys a proper burial, or keep them as a reminder of those carefree, humid evenings when my swearing at an unresponsive car could have made sailors blush.