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Thursday, June 12, 2008
Dude, where's my car?
I want a car dude! This studying thing is all well and good, but when it comes to the hallmarks of adulthood and independence, nothing really beats a car. Your own space on the road - go wherever you want whenever you want, listening to anything you like. Ah, it's a driving life for me. I've always fancied myself as a bit of a journeyman; a Kerouac for the 21st century. Only with my own ride. Customised, souped-up. Pimped. Whatever - this is all a pipe-dream and pretty much unrealisable without the money or the impetus.
At the moment I suppose I don't really need a car, being as I'm trapped at school most of the time. Still, I'm getting a little antsy for the speed, the thrill of the road. My Dad used to own a classic 1956 Ford thunderbird and boy did that thing turn heads. Siting in the front seat of that thing was the coolest. Sure it was pretty impracticle; and the idea of owning something so prone to breaking down these days would be a nightmare, but it was beautiful and could go like the wind. Or that's how I remember it. He was so proud of that old t-bird. He'd spend entire Sundays laid out on his back under that thing; or with his nose stuck under the hood, just tinkering, polishing. I swear he'd just take it apart just to put it back together again. Sometimes I'd get a little angry with him - he'd promise to do things with me at the weekend, then get swallowed up by his car and put the whole thing off. But when he took me for a spin in that car all was forgiven.
I coulda sworn he and that car became one and the same thing on those long straight roads. I know I know - sounds kinda cheesy, but one day I wouldn't mind that kind of relationship with a car. Guys, you know what I'm talking about. I still remember the day Dad came home late from work one day, and told us all about how some hick had slammed into his side at the lights and written off the t-bird. I don't think he's ever really gotten over it. Sure, he had car insurance, but mom made him get something more practical - a station-wagon that was about as exciting as a yak - and I suppose it was a relief in some ways in that we could all fit in the car much more comfortably - but I intend to get myself something like that old thunderbird as soon as I can. Spend some good weekends down in the garage with it, then take it out to wherever I like. You gotta have a dream. Right?
