DRIVERS SEAT: Sarah Wilson, mortician

Name and age: Sarah Wilson, 27.

Occupation:  Embalmer and general manager at Global Mortuary Affairs.

What kind of car:  Black 2007 Nissan Versa SL, baby! Almost paid for.

Name of car: Buffy.

So, do you drive a hearse? No. We do have some minivans for transport, but nothing too exciting.

So, do you ever transport bodies? Hell, no!

Live ones — like friends? Oh. Well, I get passengers sometimes.

How many can you fit in your car? Legally, five.

What are the rules of your car? No smoking. You spill it, you clean it up. Don’t touch the radio.

Best car memory: In high school I had a ’92 Ford Escort LX station wagon. I remember cruising with some friends and blasting the bass. I recall Beastie Boys. Stuff you do in high school — in a station wagon.

Funniest road trip story? It’s not really a road trip but driving to Chili Fest in Snook, Texas was fun. Just passing all the drunken people on the road and everyone acting a fool.

Passing drunk drivers does not sound like fun. Anyway, what’s in your CD changer? Let’s see, I have the Repo soundtrack, a bluegrass mix tape and Radiohead.

Does Buffy have a/c? Hells yeah, you better believe it. If it didn’t, I’d shoot myself.

What is your commute? Just about five minutes. I live at Buckner and I-30 and drive about eight miles to Beltline and Highway 80 in Mesquite.

GPS or Mapsco? GPS! Mapsco’s old-school. Don’t you have to print it out? Who does that anymore?

Do you ever ask for directions? Hell, no! I’d rather drive around in circles looking for the place.

How do you rate this car to your previous ones? This is like a 10-double plus. I don’t have a key first of all so I can’t lock them in. It’s got douche-tooth [editor’s note: she means Bluetooth] so I can talk to my car and it has good gas mileage.

If money were no object, I’d be driving a…: Volkswagen Karmann Ghia. I had a crush on that car when I was a kid.

Sexiest thing about your car? Probably the pump-action lumbar support. That sounds sexy, huh?

Are there any downsides to this particular car? It’s size. It is small.

So you’re a size queen: I can be when it matters.

Where is one place you would like to drive your car? I’d like to drive it to somewhere on the East Coast, for sure. Let’s go to New York.

Are you a grandma driver or speed racer? Dude, I am speed racer. It’s best not to slow down around me.

Do you drive around looking for the best deal on gas? Nah. I have that gas app that shows you where the best prices are.

Tell us a mortician joke. How about, ‘What’s a necrophiliac pick-up line? ‘Would you like to go out on a date? I’ll take your silence as a yes.’”


— Rich Lopez

This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition July 1, 2011.

—  Michael Stephens

Gadget update: Calyp app

I’m getting ready to convert my lame-o cell phone into an iPhone for Verizon, so it occurs to me I can use more apps than the few piling up on my limited-use 8-gig iPod Touch. I want stuff that’s useful, like those apps that perform instant price-checks or get your GPS quickly or get you laid while in the Alps. (OK, maybe that’s just wishful thinking.) And I’m thinkin’ about Calyp.

Considering how addicted most people already are to “liking” people and events on Facebook and retweeting the interests of their friends and followers, the new app Calyp has an intriguing premise. The idea is to sign up at or download the free app from the Apple store. If I understand it right, you then select your interests and hobbies (say, indie music or eating out). The site then pairs up its clients with your interests; if you like the item the client suggests — say, 20 percent off a dinner at your favorite restaurant — you simply share that will others in your social media network. You earn points for the number of hits and click-throughs you get as a result. Points accrue toward credit on a Visa debit card you can use anywhere.

Does it make you a bit of a shill? Mebbe. But if you really like the stuff, it’s a way to share your likes with others. It’s like Groupon, only you benefit from sharing it. (Just like Groupon does, come to think of it, only you don’t have to buy anything — others do.) And hey, if I can defer some of the cost of that new iPhone, all the better.

—  Arnold Wayne Jones