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June 16, 2006

The End of My Youth

My mother just told me that my 1984 Buick Regal has been sold.

*sniff*

I haven't driven "my baby" in almost ten years, and she's sat out and basically started to rot, but still...

If our scanner was working I'd post a picture of my baby, but alas...

My mom and step-father gave me that car for Christmas in 1991 when I was about to start my student teaching. God I loved that car! If that car could talk! I had an unfortunate run-in with a deer three days before I graduated, but my parents and I worked an entire Fourth of July weekend to repair the front end, including putting a new hood on it.

I asked my mom if the car smelled like an old ashtray when she opened the door and she said no; I guess that air freshener I put in there really worked. She is going send me the contents of the glove compartment, which includes my parking permit from college.

I don't know why I feel so sad, I mean, I haven't driven that car in so long and I kept telling my mom to sell it. (Techincally it's her car anyway.)

So, now my parents are down to two Regals, both '87's. I would love to get my hands on my mom's silver Regal and juice it up. (My step-father got me started on the whole car thing.) The other Regal, the blue one, is okay too, but I think they'd like to get rid of that one before they move.

I'm glad I'm three hours away now; I'm such a sap I'd probably bawl like a baby when my folks signed over the title.

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Posted by Groovyvic at 07:40 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
Comments

Ooh, I have an emotional attachment to my car too. I've had it more than 10 years. I often remind myself that's longer than I knew my husband.

I'm in love with my car...

Posted by: junebee at June 17, 2006 01:19 PM