Apr 03 2011
Simply Driven
My sister has told me many times how she prays for me to have a good reliable car so she can stop worrying about my being stranded at home (too stubborn to ask for a ride) or broke down on the side of a road somewhere. I’m not sure why I’ve always had this love hate relationship with vehicles. I love them but they seem to breakdown just to get away from me. I can still remember how excited I was on my eighth birthday because it meant I was half way to my driver’s licenses. Growing up on a farm (ummm a few decades ago) I to learn to drive at an early age and by the time I was thirteen I was trusted on the main highways…for farm business anyway. When I spent the summer with my grandparents, I would wait for my grandfather to head to work…grab the keys to the 1950′s caddy…and hit the road. I could drive for hours through the winding country roads…up and down the Kentucky hills with the hot summer wind blowing in all four windows. It was just me and God’s green earth…free to imagine all the possibilities and dream of the path my life would take. When reality interrupted my world (by forcing to me acknowledge that I could not imagine the tank full when it ran out of gas) I hitchhiked back to the house and spent the rest of the day nervously waiting. There was no way to get the car home without help, so that meant I was busted. I received the standard…you are still too young to drive…be patient…you will get your license in a few years lecture, and he found a new hiding place for the keys. The next morning (after pleading my case in a logical and convincing manner…or maybe just because she was tired of hearing me…lol) my grandmother hinted at the general relocation, and after a short search I headed out with keys in hand to enjoy another day of exquisite freedom. But even though I won the battle for freedom that summer, I lost the war. When I returned for my next visit I found an empty spot where my caddy had once waited for me. He said someone had made him a fantastic offer so he sold it. I believe that for him the relief of not having to tell me no was worth far more than the $500.00 he made from the sale. I can still close my eyes and go back to those days…that big tank of a car felt as roomy as some big city efficiency apartments. You just knew everyone on the road was gonna move out of the way when they saw those huge chrome bullets headed towards them (hummers don’t have crap on these old classics when it comes to intimidation…lol). I can hear the sound of the motor as I sped down the road (violating many modern EPA regulations I am sure), and can taste the grainy dust that blew in my mouth as I sang at the top of my lungs along the way. Over the years since then I have had many automotive relationships…some good and some bad…some I wrecked and one short lived (almost fatal attraction) that totaled me. But, I will never forget my first love. Road trip anyone?
