Today they took you away.
A big man in a big truck pulled up and that is when I left the scene. I came inside wondering: Why does Father Joe need my teenage memories? Why did I allow this to happen? 5EXZ844, I hope you will be alright. I can’t imagine who will use you next and what adventures you might go on but I hope that they are good ones. I treated you alright, right? I know I only washed you maybe six times in the two years I had you and I know that I didn’t fix your cd player and I know that I let you see some obscene things and there was that time where I ran you into the only pole in the parking lot…yeah. But we had good times too—we drove to so many beats back and forth from my parking spot to destinations near and far. I never got you pulled over and I never totaled you. My friends painted you a few times and others scribbled words and symbols into your dust. I took you to L.A. and never pushed you further. But you were old, you couldn’t take it and so you let yourself fall apart. And am I to blame? I was out exploring the wonders and downfalls of public transportation. I couldn’t have known! Don’t be too hard on me and don’t be too hard on yourself. We had a beautiful relationship while it lasted. You gave me freedom and I guess I, in turn, gave you your freedom. You were my ticket out and for that I am forever grateful to you. I will always consider my decision to get you, with your self-heating seats and wooden interior, over any new cheap Japanese little hot rod. Yes, you served me well and no other can ever change the things you did for me. You did good kid. Real good.
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