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Well, it's been a long road. Leonard and I first met sometime in June or July last year. We've traveled many roads together. Soon after becoming acquainted, we drove to northern California where I visited Julie and her family, then my brother and grandpa. A long road with just Smalls, Cloud Cult, and the quiet sound of Leonards crappy, treadless tires to keep me company.
Leonard had a mind of his own. He heated or cooled at his own disgression, the automatic benefits somewhat lacking when old age sent them haywire. Whenever he felt like it, he locked me in or out, like in the epic incident when my gas light was on, running on empty, and I hopped out to read a meter. The doors locked of their own accord, locking me out while the engine idled away its tiny reserve of fuel. This resulted in a panicked situation leading me to pay $140 to have someone pick my lock and let me in. There were two more such occurences, though luckily much less expensive.
Then the delightful moment when my backpack, complete with the only key I had for Leonard, soared off Mount Timpanogas and it cost another $300 to make two keys.
The random moments when the alarm was set unbeknownst to me, and I had to scramble to turn it off in the middle of the night or in parking lots.
But Leonard has warmed me when it was cold outside, his seat warmers heating me long before the heater got around to working. His sun roof allowed the stars to look down upon me as I drove at night. He took me to Sun Valley to visit Smalls, to Idaho to see my family, and to Washington to visit Jackie and Lindsey.
He's driven on golf courses and railraod paths.
I'm sorry Leonard, but this was one time too many. This was too far. The boys tried to fix it, ended up lighting him on fire so we took it to a mechanic, mechanic changed the cam sensor then the timing belt snapped as they tried to start it, possibly destroying my engine as well. Basta. I've had enough!
It's been a wild ride. I've spent probably 3 x's what we paid to buy this car trying to fix it up. About a thousand in the last two months, only to lose him now in such an unglorious way. But maybe it's time to move on. Time to get rid of things that are dead and look to the future.
Farewell, old suckwinkle.
Farewell, old suckwinkle.
2 comments:
O Leonard Suckwinkle! How depressing! It sounds like my dumb red subaru always fixing it, but never fixed...I think you're right...it's best to leave ol' Leonard and move on. Sorry it was such a rough ride, ugh. Cars are so draining on the piggy bank. I hope you find a beaut!
For some reason this post made me remember this Dylan Thomas poem:
Do not go gentle into that good night,
old age should burn and rage at close of day;
rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
because their words had forked no lightning they do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Goodbye Leonard.
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