Eddie and I have just arrived at the Eatemup.
We came together because my Celica wouldnít start so Eddie came by
and picked me up. I get a lot of hassle about my old Celica. The
guys seem to think I should get rid of it and get something a bit
newer. I donít understand their thinking; Celica is only 17 years
I got my Celica the same year that I graduated
from college, got my first teaching job and turned half a century
old. Megan thought I should have something special and she came up
with the idea it should be a new car. Not just any new car but a
special new car. A new car that was just for me and not the whole
family. We already had a family car. I thought it was a good idea.
After looking at almost every automobile in
existence, I decided on a Celica. Not just any Celica but one that
was special. It had to be a two-door hatchback. It had to have the
rear window shadow box. And it had to have a sway bar; just in
case I got wild and reckless and began driving too fast and racing
around corners. You never know when you might get a brain tumor
and do things you wouldnít normally do. Hey, it happens.
Actually, I had a great time looking and
deciding which car to purchase. Sometimes Megan would go with me.
Sometimes my son Tim would try to lead me to a vehicle he thought
I should have so he could borrow it. And sometimes it was a friend
who was more knowledgeable about cars than I was. Which is not
hard because Iím as ignorant about cars as I am the genetic make
up of the Asian Migrating Worm.
Itís still amazes me that Iíve had this car for
so long and that I even got it in the first place. Let me rephrase
that. That Megan ever got it for me in the first place. I would
have tolerated driving an old clunker to school. Not because I am
particularly fond of old clunkers but Iím, ahh, too thrifty to buy
a car just for myself. Megan says Iím just too darn cheap. And I
resent her saying that. I donít deny it; I just resent her saying
It was Megan that did the dirty work of car
buying. She arranged the loan, ran back and forth getting papers
signed, and made arrangement for a time and date to pick up my new
car at the dealers. I just hopped around and wagged my tail in
anticipation, sorta. You know how dogs get so excited when they
think youíre going to give them a treat. Well, this was a treat
like I had never been offered before. And if wagging my tail
helped I was going to be the best tail wagger you ever saw.
Youíve probably seen little old men running
around in their spiffy sport cars. Yep, that was me. I thought I
was the oldest stud muffin that ever lived. Itís too bad I was
more muffin that stud. But I did love that little car. I never saw
one just like it. Some had the window shadow box but no sway bar.
Some had the sway bar but no shadow box. We were special being one
of a kind.
Megan and I traveled all over the country in
that little Celica. East and north of course. In 1990, we went
west. That was a wonderful trip. Megan had wanted to see the Grand
Canyon, and we decided this was the year. She made all the
reservations for lodging, mule riding, horseback riding, and white
water rafting on the Colorado River at Moab, Utah. We still think
of this as our favorite vacation and a big part of our enjoyment
was riding in the Celica.
But the Celica is much like myself. Itís
getting older. Where I used to flop in and hop out, I now hold on
and ease myself in. And, of course, thereís the inevitable grunt
as I get out. The tape player quit playing a year or so ago and
the radio doesnít always come on when I want it to.
But Iím still not getting rid of my Celica.
Half my kids and several grandchildren have suggested I get rid of
it. And it seems I should always get rid of it by giving it to
them. What in the world are they thinking? Peace.