The End of the Road

February 9, 2009

I bought a new car today. I’ve wanted a Prius for years. After saving up for London last year, I figured I could do the same towards a new car and put into action all my ramblings about the vile dependency on oil. It is a nice car, I’m not going to lie. But I did this primarily because I wanted to contribute towards the message that we aren’t gonna take it any more. Alternative energy has to become a reality.

I’m picking up Kermit on Monday. Kermit because he’s green… and I think the Prius kind of has a muppet personality. But that’s just me and my odd way of seeing the universe.

That leaves me with the Corolla for two more days. I never named the Corolla. Someone else tried to name her… but it didn’t really stick. She has given me a good seven years… and a lot of memories that I find myself pondering before I hand over the keys.

I bought her in May 2002, four months after returning from London. When I decided that I was going to make a go of it this side of the Atlantic. The car has moved me four times, to Worcester, to Barre, back to Newton… then two miles down the road. I’ve driven it to four jobs, one that I hated with my entire soul, one I didn’t care all too much for, and two that I love very much. I drove to a class reunion, countless weddings, and to say goodbye in several cemeteries. It has carted costumes and set pieces and posters for numerous plays.

I’ve had all sorts of passengers in that car. My Little Sister sat many hours in the backseat divulging all the important details of her week, asking me unexpected questions about the grownup world, or begging me to turn on Radio Disney. I picked up George Herman from school when he filled me in on the week’s next great adventure. The front seat had many a guest star on trips to Trader Joe’s or Christmas tree shopping or road trips to no where in particular. A lot of laughs.

I spent many more hours in that car on my own. Numerous hours to and from Gloucester or Worcester. I would listen to my tapes (I have no place to play a cassette any longer), my CDs, and now my iPod to inspire my brain to try to sort things out or create something original for writing or the stage.

Obviously, it’s just a car. I don’t place a lot of stock in holding too much affection for an OBJECT that has no feelings. And yet… there are memories of places that the car has been to which I no longer go. Or the echoes of laughter from people who are no longer in my life. It is good to move away… and yet… worth it to pause and recollect before it goes to the scrap heap.