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Bruce Joker

A Farewell to Silver Streak (my car)

Posted on 2008.07.23 at 03:53
WARNING: For those of you who don't know me, I'm prone to overdramatizing the mundane and anthropomorphizing inanimate objects. For those of you who do know me...well, this little eulogy is pretty much par for the course. And, yes, it's meant to be somewhat comedic--I'm not really in mourning over a car. Enjoy!


Silver Streak and I first met when I was 15 years old. I knew from first sight that she had a beautiful body, but I found out I was in love when I made that first shy, tentative press on the accelerator. Oh, was she ever responsive! She hummed as she knocked me back in my seat, and from that moment I knew she was a machine after my own heart.

Silver Streak and I had some wild times: we've driven from Texas to Massachusetts and back again, we've driven through hurricane-force winds and flood waters up to the headlights, we've driven to and from the Rocky Horror Picture Show at 3:00 in the morning, and we've driven to and from the Route Nine Diner even later than that. We've made food runs, airport runs, and Batman (well, Dark Knight) runs at hours that only the graveyard-shifters, the nocturnal, and the demented ever see. We've driven to wrestling events and softball games, and we've avoided water-spouts and chemical plant explosions. All this with neither a wreck nor a ticket--a perfect record after 5 years. Even when I abused her (like the time I locked my keys in the car while it was still running), she treated me well. And in return, I dolled her up like a queen--that is, if queens like butterflies, purple velvet and mirror ornaments.

Amazing how a (for once) normal drive can be the one that changes everything. Amazing how a driver can hit a slick patch of road at the exact second that a strong gust of wind blows the other way, how I could be going at the perfect speed (ironically enough, very close to the speed limit), at the perfect angle and the perfect size, to go into a SPECTACULAR spin.

I was driving forward, forward, forward, and then it was as though I hit a wall of air: I couldn't go forward anymore. The car was heading toward the concrete barrier at 60-65 mph. Finally, it spun around and around, and it hit one, two, three, four times before skidding about 100 feet to a stop (facing into oncoming traffic). The car, I'm quite sure, was totaled. However, as has been custom in my rides with Silver Streak, I managed to avoid hitting any other car (including a dump truck which was trapping me between itself and the concrete barrier), and I came out of the thing completely unharmed--not even a bruise. That little 2001 Ford Escort was loyal until the end.

Though Silver Streak may well be gone, she will not be forgotten--by anyone. She left her mark on the city (and not just because the TC police force named her). You can still see the tire tracks spiraling in all directions, and you can see four distinct silver patches and one silver, black and red scratch on the barrier...the whole scene lasts for well over 100 feet.

Silver Streak won't get a tearful goodbye. She won't see her parts start to break down, she won't get me any money for a trade-in, she won't see a new owner, and she won't be put out to pasture with the other cars that have lived long, dependable lives. In other words, she'll never live the life that, as a little fuel-efficient sedan, she was supposed to live. But you know what? If she's truly a car after my own heart, I know that she likes it better this way. Cue Bon Jovi's "Blaze of Glory": it's how she went out.


penhaligonblue at 2008-07-23 15:01 (UTC) (Link)
Alas, poor Silver Streak! I knew her, Allison. A sedan of infinite purple velvet.

Will you be finding a replacement? Because if not, I'll be happy to pay you back for all your chauffeuring with my own anthropomorphic sedan (currently named Berkeley, but to be renamed Stephen Dedalus when ownership passes to me).
comrade_sir at 2008-08-08 06:58 (UTC) (Link)
Hi Hannah! I thank you for both the sympathy and the offer, but I have found a suitable replacement. I call her "Deuce." She's another shiny silver Ford (a 2006 Taurus). Basically, she picks up where Silver Streak left off. Though I am excited to meet Berkeley/Stephen Dedalus. What kind of sedan is he?
penhaligonblue at 2008-08-12 20:36 (UTC) (Link)
Um, a Mercedes something or other. I don't really know. I think he's 15 years old, about. Yeah, I know. I drive a Mercedes. Makes me feel like a pampered rich kid. But we got it at a really good price, 'cause my dad loves learning about cars so he hands out with used car dealers.

Looking forward to meeting Deace. I hope she and Stephen become friends.
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