I hate wrecks. I really do.
You have your car one minute, in the next you don't.
Fucking sucks.
It was my van. My fullsize/churchsize Dodge Ram van. Such a character. Such a ride. I loved her wide-truck chassy. I loved her rock-like demeanor. I loved the way we intimidated people at night when we stopped behind them since her lights were so high off the ground as to be shining directly into their cars. I love how her brakes never squeaked. I love how she TOOK ME PLACES. She was set apart from the rest, characteristics I like possessions to have by exhibiting qualities that fit me.
And I had just filled her up too.
This BITES.
I've had countless memories of her running through my head all night (some have randomly appeared, some have been provided coincidentally) and I just had the recollection about my one entry concerning her in this blournal. I thought I might share it with you.
Long live the empty driveway.
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May 17th, 2004
It finally happened.
For every vehicle that you see roaming the streets, there is also...a bird. Every single car, truck, and motorcycle has an aviatic counterpart. It's not a myth, it's not wishful thinking or misguided desire. It's fate.
It is true that in a car's lifetime it may never happen; true that they may never find that one, true bird who will turn the course of their....course. But when it happens, it's......it's magic. It truly makes one find credibility in the phrase, "love at first sight". There is a pull, a force unrecognizable, that draws these two beings from different lives, from different worlds, from different animated states together, and to deny that force is to....deny that force.
The fact that one relies on oxygen and the other gasoline doesn't matter! When it comes to this...this attraction, there are no boundaries, nothing to hold them back from their inevitable meeting.
And the pair finally meet: beak to grill/windshield/antenna.
It was a sunny afternoon, and I, the unwitting accomplice to the opportunity of my hapless chugging steed, was on my way to pick up a dear friend. Never could I have imagined that I would be the witness to what some people will neverevernever experience, even in their experienced lives.
I couldn't explain what had happened. It was like life became a sweet romance film: the bird at the side of the road, the vehicle careening on the asphalt...two star-struck lovers caught in each other's gaze. Both were done for after that moment. Neither stood a chance.
The bird took off with a grace that my Dodge Ram couldn't resist. Some people might say that it was the other way around, that my Ram was coasting with such an air that that blackbird just couldn't stop its animalistic urges. But I knew. I felt the pedal under my feet. I knew that something, somewhere inside the engine of my steed had....clicked. Perhaps it was the catalytic converter. Perhaps it was the spark plug. Perhaps it was the rim on the left-front wheel. Details such as this do not matter. These are mysteries that will never be explained.
And then it was over. It took no more than a split second for the two to explore each other, to know each other inside out, through and through, over and under and above and below. In this split second, memories were created, inside-jokes were laughed at, cute mannerisms were accentuated, breasts were ogled, and egos were expanded.
And then, in the space between seconds, the relationship that no one could deny was made in heaven....came crashing to the curb.
I can't tell you why my van broke off the engagement. It still won't tell me to this hour. But somewhere, something was wrong. Perhaps it was the approach that the bird took, curving from a trajectory that made it seem as if it were going to fly to the nearest tree only to drastically curve towards my van. Maybe my van didn't feel as if the slam the bird offered was enough of a gentle caress for its emotional lusts.
Maybe the bird was an inadequate lover.
Whatever the reasons, whatever the broken bones and hearts and small meaningless scratches and dents, I, for one, can never look at life the same way. I, the bystander, the one on the sidelines, have witnessed life at its most candid, its most inexplicable, its most beautiful.
To this day my van and I haven't seen the bird....or what was left of it. My van takes on the air that it doesn't care, but I know that deep down inside, it still longs for that one special time when it found it's true opposite.
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I'll miss you Big Blue.
Charles. | 
