This article is one I have been able to put a lot of thought into over the past 2 weeks of my seemingly eventless and meaningless summer. It was a nice Saturday morning (August 1st), and my buddy Anthony and I were up around 6:45 to make a trek to our mecca of golf, Apple Mountain. After some brief dialogue we decided that the vehicle of choice would be Lamar. For those of you do not know, Lamar was my 1990 Volvo 760 turbo series ex-car. Waking up that Saturday morning, I had no clue that this day would be my last with my friend and car, Lamar.
It was a nice day of golf and a free pitcher of Yuengling at Apple Mountain. Lamar was smooth as always for the trip, the absolute epitome of a "big trip-car". This is similar to Curt Schilling being labeled as a "big-game pitcher." The trip home was very smooth and I soon retreated to the couch in my living room to relax for a little while before going out to party for the night. And when I say party, I mean play Fifa 09' in my living room with my laptop next to me for the night. In any event, I digress. My father came home with some shocking news; we were going to get a new car in the Cash for Clunkers program, and I should immediately start to clean out Lamar, and bring him to the dealership within the hour. Panic set off in my head; I knew this day would come, but everything happened so fast. After a lengthy clean-out and brief photoshoot, it was me just me and Lamar on the 15 minute drive to the Maxon Hyundai-Mazda dealership on route 22. There was no sound to distract either of us, no Air Conditioning (it never worked once over the 3 years we spent together), no radio (same as A/C). It was a very awkward situation, but I think he understood. I could sense it in the way his engine purred along without one last stall on the way there. It was his mature understanding of the situation, and how I really had no choice but to cash in on this program.
Throughout our eventful 3 years together, there were inevitably many ups and downs along with several near-death experiences as well. There was the non-functional air conditioning and radio, the stalling of the engine at the most inopportune intersections. Along with the stalling came the embarrassment of having to hurriedly start up my car while countless impatient gibronis leaned on their horns behind me. Lamar didn't give me much luxury or flash, but what he gave day in and day out was true grit and heart. He got me to and from Fairfield all year long, with trips to Providence, Boston and Pennsylvania mixed in as well. Everytime a big trip was on tap, he showed up on game day and performed flawlessly. We had the best of times, and the worst of times. One man's pain is now some random junkyard's pleasure. Rest in Peace.
