Friday, June 25, 2010

The End

by Laurissa
I really don’t like to disappoint anyone so it’s only logical that after a week of first sentences, first chapters and middles, logically I should write today, the last weekday, about endings. So thank you fellow Working Stiffs for helping to lead me into today’s post. When I decided Monday afternoon what I was going to blog about today, I didn’t know then that you were going to set me up so nicely. However I’m going to talk about a different type of ending.

Monday morning my daughter and I took Hubert (my daughter’s moniker for her car), a ’94 Ford Escort to the local scrap yard, his final resting place. I had no idea until I started cleaning out the car on Sunday afternoon, how attached I was to this car. Admittedly the fact that it’s a 1994 and it’s now 2010, should have been my first clue, but it wasn’t. For the sake of full disclosure, I had only owned the car since August of 2003 when I purchased it for $1,000 for my then fifteen year old daughter. At that time, I asked my father (a car expert, IMHO) if he would help me find a used, reliable vehicle for my daughter, and oh yeah, the catch was that I only had $1,000 to spend on it. When he asked for further details such as color, etc., I told him that I didn’t care at all about the color, just wanted it to be reliable and again, $1,000 or less. But since he mentioned it, I guess I wasn’t all that keen on the color aqua for a car, but any other color would do.

So when he called and said he found a good car for the price but that it just might be the aqua color I didn’t like, I wasn’t surprised, my karma wasn’t all that great back then.

Let’s face it, as a 1994 Ford Escort station wagon it really wasn’t going to be the “cool car” on the block anyhow so I decided to buy it regardless of the color (my apologies to anyone who owns an aqua car, and by the way, the color did grow on us). 

That was the beginning. The middle was filled with many trips to and from the local high school, multiple volleyball practices, games, and tournaments, and soon after college. And now there we were, at the end. How did time pass so quickly?

As I drove Hubert through the scrap yard filled with old pipes, cars, dust, glass, and basically junk, I thought back to the beginning and middle, and at the same time was looking forward to the future, but not the end. I guess it’s bittersweet.

However, despite the emotion of the moment, I admittedly, as a mystery writer, couldn’t help but think, “Wouldn’t it make a great story if I tripped over a body back here?”

7 comments:

Annette said...

We do get attached to our cars, don't we? Or is it really the memories they signify?

Oh, Laurissa, you're really starting to see the world as a mystery writer now...picturing dead bodies everywhere you go. LOL!

Anonymous said...

Why is it that we so often give names that being with "H" to cute, but inanimate objects? We called our pool sweeper Howard, and the pool man said nearly everybody he worked for used and "H" name, too. So I've gone an anecdotal study ever since---and it's true!

Sorry about your car, Laurissa. I get very attached to cars, too.
Sniff!
Nancy

Jennie Bentley said...

Sorry about your loss, Laurissa! But I have to agree with Annette: you're becoming a mystery writer if you see everything in terms of dead bodies and the potential for foul play.

Nancy, we've never had an appliance or car with an H-name. Or a pet, for that matter. Our first car was Francine. I don't name mine, but DH's current car is Lexi. She's a Lexus, so it makes sense. Francine was an Oldsmobile Delta 88 we bought for $300 back in 1992 and kept for about a year. If you say that most people use H-names, of course I believe you; I just never did, myself. I'm partial to J-names and R-names, at least for my imaginary friends AKA characters.

Joyce said...

The only car I ever named was my ocean blue w/a white vinyl roof 1972 Buick Skylark. It's name was "Surf's Up."

We keep our vehicles until the repairs cost more than the car is worth. I don't get attached because by that time, I can't wait to get a new one!

Joyce said...

Oops. Ignore that apostrophe in "its." I know it doesn't belong there!

Anonymous said...

My 1984 Beauville Van was "Bessie" and my 1994 Safari Van was "Big Blue."

I would occasionally see Bessie around town for several years after I sold her, for a few hundred dollars, in 2000. I always cheered when I saw her, driven by a handy man who loaded her down with various tools of his trade. I'm sure he had a knack as a mechanic to keep her on the road so long.

Big Blue went to the junk yard last August in the cash-for- clunkers program. I didn't realize how attached I was, until the day came to drop her off and pick up our new Honda CR-V. I'm not sure if it's the actual memories of the vacations we took with all the kids, or the fact that I would get in it every day so that it became almost like the clothes I put on--almost like an extension of my body. Or at least something that becomes very personal about saying who I am. Maybe that's it--it tells the world a lot about me. --JB

Wilfred Bereswill said...

There's an episode of Mythbusters where they destroy a car that was almost identical to my very first ride, a 1967 Sport Fury. It hurts me every time I see it crash into those Jersey Barriers.

Other than that car, I've never been too attached to my vehicles. I was certainly glad to give up my 1976 Plymouth Volare Premere.

I hope the ending was satisfying for you.