I remember the first time I laid eyes on you. Sitting there on the corner of Falcon and Grant. So sweet, so innocent -- you wanted me and I wanted you. The sign in the windshield telling me you were on the market. Your smooth lines calling my name, like a banshee screaming from the heavens. As the chrome glistened in the autumn sun I climbed in and on board, you took me and caressed me. Peace was finally available.
Taking a seat in the captain’s chair gave me the confidence to go anywhere and do anything because I had you to take me there. Your porthole window: a glimpse into another world, a stain-glass view into the heart of man. Down below, burgundy shag carpet conforming to my feet, like clouds in the sapphire sky.
Your A/C Delco filled my head with classic rock and we were off. Into the world, an adventure made for the two of us. Remember stopping at that café in Arcadia, they loved you there. Flo, who served me the best steak and eggs, wanted to see inside you, she had a thing for long-backs, but she wasn’t on our level. She wanted to hit and run, I couldn’t let her do that to you.
Across America we went, your Goodyears rolling on, piercing through the crisp air, gunning for the manifest destiny that waited for us. And then, there in Jonestown, I went in for a pack of Pall Mall’s and coming back to you I noticed it, right there, dug into the drivers side door. A dent. My heart sunk. I wanted to find the bastard and rip their heart out, take a bite and spit it back into the heartless soul of the dolt who dinged you.
Yet, the days continued and we kept on keepin’ on. When it got cold your heat warmed me and when it rained you kept me dry. The nights came and I slept inside you and no matter how scary the noises outside got, I was safe within your plush metal walls. Dreams were prevalent at that time and I remember one in particular that involved you, me, and a sorority car wash fundraiser.
Never in a million years did I ever think we would part, but we reached our destination and settled in. California was new then and you were still my lady, but my job took me away from you and I had to settle for air travel. Persuading the bosses that I could accomplish more with you under me was shunned and the tickets for those so called “air buses” kept coming. The thought of you sitting in that dark garage killed me and in late September of ’86 I had to let you go.
Watching you roll away with a new fellow kept me up at nights, but you deserved to be with someone who was going to be a gentleman for you. Time helps but I think of you often and every now and then my thoughts drift back to our time together. A bright spot in the life of me and I hope you feel the same way. I think about where you are now and I pray that it’s safe and warm. You deserve more than this world gives you, but like most things in this screwy planet you never get the respect you deserve. But, perhaps you’re out in a field, giving refuge to creatures of the small kind or a man who has long fingernails and craves pork-n-beans. No matter, I am sorry I lost you, but oh so grateful for the time we had together. For the good times and everything in between.
Sincerely,
Los Vangeles
