21 May 2008

Dude, Where's My Car?

Someone stole my car. I don't really take it personally. I would question their judgement of cars though. I bought the beauty in 2000 with 80,000 miles on it for $4000. It has served me well on cross-country trips, gravel roads I shouldn't have taken it on, through a tunnel carved in a giant redwood tree, and as a constant companion as a metro shuttle about town. It's been packed to the gills with boxes, had windows smashed, antenna ripped off, numerous tires blown out.

Recently, I think the car knew the end was near. The past year has been spent in and out of mechanics intensive care. The tow truck drivers know me by name. We've saved and started shopping for a new one but were hoping to have a little more time looking for that special deal.

Perhaps it's joyriding around town right now. Perhaps it's on it's way to Mexico. Perhaps it's being set on fire in the middle of the desert. Perhaps I'll get a call from the Tucson Police that it's safely parked on a side street without any damage and I just have to go pick it up...

The Tucson Police found the car with the ignition trashed and most of the interior torn apart. Looking for drugs? Old car=drug car? Many questions but it's undrivable. My much trusted mechanic, Jim Mabry at Quantum Mechanics in Tucson, (best mechanic in Tucson according to Click and Clack) asked if I would donate it to one of his customers, a single mother, that recently lost her car. Apparently the color wasn't right. OK, this car is looking like it's hard to even give away! We called two junkyards to tow it and they don't even want it. Well, the charity that will take the car is none other than "The American Lung Association." For two smokers, this is quite a little possible signal of Kharma or something I'm not quite prepared to accept. Thank you American Lung Association.

1 comment:

julie said...

Sometimes this sort of thing is a blessing, a message from the ether that change has come, like it or not. The last time I had something stolen was in Chicago. My cute yellow Schwinn girl bike disappeared from my backyard in Logan Square. I had been contemplating leaving Chicago for a few months before that happened, but my bike disappearing was the proverbial nail in the coffin I needed to make a move. I recommend the Element! Lots of room for your sundry sundries.