Bye Bye, Baby

I finally got someone to haul away my old Aspire. I got her from George in lieu of a royalty check for Groovitis. She had over 100,000 miles on her and I put on another 90,000 myself.

My favorite trip was at the end of the summer a few years back. I drove her to Appleton, WI for a gig with George. If I remember correctly, he had to go elsewhere the next day and Jeff was gigging in Duluth or something, so I wound up driving myself. The next morning I picked up a copy of the NPR radio theater version of Star Wars on cassette tape, popped the first episode into my tape player and started driving to SOMS in Hibbing.



I stopped briefly in Cloquet to buy a mug and continued. The final episode finished just as I was driving into the front gate.

Eventually the poor old girl started dying. When it rained or was cold with high humidity her electrical system would fritz out and reset the radio and clock. The headlights stopped working due to an electrical meltdown. The blower for the heater never worked.

She spent most of the last year in the parking lot of the roastery waiting to be hauled away, and I promised Jeff I'd have her out of there before the snow flew this year, and seeing as that could be by this weekend, I finally went and made the call.




Her next stop is the crusher. Her next shape is rectangular. I got $25 for her.

Bye bye, baby, you were a good car.

Comments

Cari said…
We had a couple of good road trips in that dumb little car. I love that she was hauled away by a bobcat and crushed. You did remember to take the stash out of the seat cushions first, right?
November 19, 2008 at 12:17 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Michael Johnson Concert

Image
I went to see Michael Johnson in concert at the Pioneer Place on Fifth last night -- what a thrill! I remember seeing him for the first time in the Stewart Hall Auditorium back in the mid 80s and sitting a mile away, last night I was in the front row. He hasn't lost a thing, although his voice was a little weak at times, but that's understandable seeing as he just had quadruple bypass surgery only 4 1/2 months ago. His guitar playing, on the other hand, is still up to snuff, in fact it's beyond snuff, he's one of the best guitarists I've ever seen. He played an Irving Berlin song that I simply must learn, but I forgot the title (grrr!). Berlin wrote it for the woman he loved, but back in those days it was unthinkable for a Jewish man to marry a Catholic woman. It's something like "That'll Do" or "It'll Have To Do," I just can't remember -- I even asked him after the concert, but it was gone by the time I got home. Sometimes i
Read more

RIP Seth Parent

Image
Wow. I'm just stunned. Anyone who has had anything to do with community theater in St. Cloud in the past 20 years has worked in some capacity with Seth Parent. And I am sure there are many people who drive around here who saw him riding around on his custom 3-wheel motorcycle with the quarter-barrel beer kegs as gas tanks. Seth always got the bad guy roles. Well, just look at him, the dark eyes, the goatee, the dark hair... he also had a love of medieval weaponry and a penchant for magic. He made a great bad guy. But he also had a funny, intelligent part that we all got to see in rehearsal and read in his writing. When he wasn't acting he worked. When I first met him he was working as a skinner at the Long Prairie slaughterhouse. He had to quit when his wrists just couldn't stand the strain anymore, I don't think anyone had thought of carpel tunnel syndrome back in those days. So he left the glamorous world of the abattoir for the bindery at Quebecor. I didn
Read more

Bitter Truth

Image
All my life I've supported my oldest brother. When I was a kid he was my best friend. When he joined the Marines I was proud of him. When he got married I cried tears of joy. When he got divorced I cried again. When he fell into the bottle, I was sad. When he admitted himself into the alcohol and chemical dependency unit of the Veterans Hospital I was thankful. Throughout his sobriety I have been as loving and supportive as I can be. He is my brother. We share the same blood. And I love him. Recent discoveries have brought me to a point of confusion and rocked my view of him. I will not go into them here, but they have brought things to the surface that have been long kept buried. He joined the Marines when he was only 17 years old. He had to get special permission from our parents to do so. He went through basic training and came back strong, lean and tanned, as all Marines do. He had a confidence I'd never seen in him before. He got his MOS (Military Occupational
Read more