The best of the free life is still yet to come, the good times ain't over for good." Are The Good Times Really Over, Merle Haggard, 1982.
Luis arrived in a battered pick up, his wife in the passenger seat. He emerged with a huge grin, firm handshake accenting his enthusiasm. Paperwork laid out, pen in hand....
The Malibu had been in our family for nearly ten years. It was the first major purchase of a young couple beginning a life together. She - money smart - found it economical, sensible and easy to drive. He - building an impressive career one block at a time - had reliable transportation with which to pursue financial security.His talents were obvious. The companies that employed him always offered a car, and the Malibu sat. A casual conversation found a willing buyer - her Dad. The bargain wasn't hard, cash and keys exchanged hands. Dad insisted that daughter buy enchiladas and margs at the Rio. He'd spent his last cent on the "new" car.
Five years and fifty thousand flawless miles later it started to act up. The transmission no longer found high gear. No one puts a couple grand into a third car and so it sat again. Sat until Luis spotted it, left a card and brought cash. His friend, a mechanic, could drop in a tranny and give him a bigger car for his wife and infant child. Sob story, hard bargaining? A solid car in need of a bit of TLC for a young family is reason enough to sign the title away.
Outside, a parking space where the Malibu had been. She wasn't inanimate. She had safely carried the most important people in a man's life - children, wife - until the day she was called to serve someone else.
Getting used to having a parking space where the Malibu sat will take some time.
Very nice! As you know, my beloved 2000 4RUNNER joined a new family on Thursday. Suffice to say, the 20-yr-old buyer is a wonderful young man who considered himself blessed to have found my pal. When he realized it's a standard, he was ecstatic. That made it easier - not easy - to bid my truck adieu.
ReplyDeleteLater that day I needed to drive my wife's 2014 car somewhere. Apparently there's a rule somewhere that techy keys need to get bigger every year. My 2000 key was simple, black, flat; never needed a battery replaced; never needed to be replaced by a $500 duplicate.
So whenever I drove my wife's big-key car, I would pull out my keychain that would make a custodian envious, find my familiar 4RUNNER key, and then my fingers would just automatically find the *other* key, by default.
That afternoon, I stood in the garage for around 10 seconds fumbling with my keychain, trying to find my wife's key. It was right there, in plain view all the time, but my mind's eye didn't see it, because my fingers were still trying to find the 4RUNNER key that had departed with the its new owner.
I chuckled to myself when I realized what I was doing, it being the first time I realized that that's always been how I would find the *other* key on my keychain. And my heart ached a little bit with that realization, that my 4RUNNER had become a long time ago, in no small way, a part of me.
My kids were 11 and 9 when I got it. They're 29 and 27 now. It was a part of me, it was a part of them. It was a part of us. Hockey, soccer, baseball, basketball, skiing, skating, camping, and more...perhaps most importantly, driving them to school every morning until they could drive themselves. She served us well. Here's hoping she continues her good work.
That's an amazing story!
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