Wednesday, August 5, 2009

“take care of all your memories, for you cannot relive them.” - bob dylan














1992 Infiniti G20 - my car for the last 17 years has been put to rest. She has served me well over the years and I shall miss her dearly.

“alone. Yes, that’s the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn’t hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym.” - stephen king.

“The transmission is dead!” He said.

“Can it be fixed,” I asked (my knowledge of auto repair can be contained in a thimble).

Junk it" He said. The car ain't worth more than $200.

A 1992 Infiniti G20 was taken off of life support and allowed to stall peacefully on August 5, 2009. It was 17 years old with over just over 85,000 miles on its first and only engine.

This Car had just one owner and two drivers.

This Infiniti had a very exciting life, residing in Brooklyn, New York. The car had been driven in at least 5 different states and It has survived various bouts with leaks, flying sun roof glass, bad AC, brake failures, and anonymous fender-benders.

One of it greatest accomplishments was driving through a flooded viaduct on Ocean Parkway without stalling or floating away, despite the headlights being under water. It has also taken some people to various hospitals for emergency care.

The car received only three tickets. One for a parking violation in Brooklyn, one for speeding on the Belt Parkway and and one for doing 75MPH in a 55MPH zone The speed limit on that road is now 60 MPH.

For “just–in–case” situations, my car always carried emergency items. They included battery jumper cables, a Swiss Army knife, flashlight, blanket, minor medical items, road flares, matches, an air pump - - and lollypops. And my car always … always … passed inspection. Never a failing grade. Together, we had amenities not to be found on today’s cars: A cassette player … room for three people to sit in the back seat … push-button entrance panel outside the drivers seat (never a worry about locking key in car). It’s difficult not to use the female gender, “her”, when referring to my car. To do so, “she” had such a good-looking sleek exterior, and an interior comfort. From time-to-time, I would hand pat the dashboard, as one does with a pet & say: “Good car. Good car!”


















So, I'm good. A tear or three was shed, but I am going green now. Way better for the environment right?












OR













Will be my new ride!

Truth is, everyone is fucked up. Some people choose to accept that fact, while others choose to be annoying by bitching about insignificant little problems like, how they can never find matching socks, or how they spilled coffee on their newspaper this morning.
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