This Entry Dedicated to Brian. And I think I know who you are.
A blue beast rolling down the road making a rumble to rival Armageddon. Don’t need a key to turn it on. You can even leave it running and take the key with you if you want. If you honk the horn the windshield wipers will move.
Look underneath. Not the hood, but underneath the car. It’s held together by reshaped metal coat hangers. Each wire tenuously holding some vital part into place.
Bring blankets with you in the cold because the beast will take the entire drive to warm up. Oh, and just run with the traffic because the speedometer doesn’t work. Well, it occasionally works. It will pop up to tell you how fast you’re going and then it will sink back down to zero and stay there until it gets the whim to tell you again. The car runs. It does. Despite its name: nova. In Spanish, No va: Doesn’t go.
I wrote a song about your car. But I don’t remember the lyrics anymore. But I guess when you get a car for free you can’t really expect much of a song.
1 comment:
Awwww. I miss that car. I've often toyed with getting a new old clunker to replace that one, but, alas, I'm now in full mini-van mode. Besides, as much as that thing was rusted out when I had it those many years ago, I'm sure all of its kin have also faded into the inky depths. Still, I like to think that somewhere on the vere of US Highway 20 between Idaho Falls and Rexburg lie some rust flakes from the old beast.
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