The End of an Era

In a matter of about 20 minutes, I said a short goodbye from the safety and seclusion behind a pane of glass, as I watched her drive away.  I tried to get her cleaned up as well as could be expected before the gentleman came to take her to a new home, where someone can take better care of her than I could.  Tooling down the road pursuing her final destination, they didn’t turn back to offer a last farewell – we had made the break – this is for the best.

Come now, don’t act too surprised.  You too knew this was coming and only a matter of time.  She was no longer capable of maintaining her poise and composure.  Ultimately she was a safety risk to herself and to others.  Now that my ‘precious one’ is in the hands of someone more capable maybe I can stop worrying if ‘tomorrow will be the day’ that she fails me and her self.

Goodbye Chevy Cavalier.  You gave me eight great years of getting from point A to point B.  Hell you even took me to points C a few times.  You ran out of gas on me only two times.  I had to replace your alternator three times.  Before finding out it was said alternator that failed, I purchased you four batteries (three of which were in the trunk when you drove away on the back of that tow truck).  We shared countless trips to Jiffy Lube and replaced your windshield wipers a total of ONE time.  Luckily there is no such thing as Common Law in Washington state – certainly not as it pertains to automobiles and their owners – because then you’d be carting away half my crap with you… not that the idea isn’t without merit.

I will miss your outright 1990′s teenage girl paintjob that made me look pseudo-queer pumping out hazy FM tuned music through your one good door speaker.  I’ll miss that deep blue interior with the crushed velvet texture that made me feel ever-so pimp-ish.  I’ll also miss the quick workouts we would experience as I would quickly roll up or roll down your windows, spinning that plastic knob at the end of your crank.  Most of all I’ll miss that loud purr of your engine when I’d start you up and the roar as I would hit the gas.  You were so responsive, but you got old.  Like any woman, I have to get rid of you when you are no longer useful or embarrass me.  It’s the Guy Way!  It’s in “The Code”!

I’m sorry baby.

Say hello to Miss Detroit!  This subtle young beauty is 14 years younger than my other love, still pristine white with a tight body… and loves to go fast.  Its as if someone managed to take the soul of my Chevy and dropped it in this modern sexy thang from 2004.  Sure lil’ Miss Grand Am, you’ll age.  And yes, I will eventually have to let you go too – but lets not rush things.

So long 1990 muscle car-minded second skin, and welcome home you Factory Certified Goddess!

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