Saying Good-bye To Herbie
I have written about the older VW I have driven for many years. I named him Herbie, because of the film, and because I name all of my cars. This car has been almost like a friend. How many baseball games have I listened to? The car where I found the feral cat that was my comfort while my mom was sick and dying. She would sit in the car and listen to me cry, talk, and she never said a word. She just sat there and listened. Now she sits in the garage with me while I write.
Herbie started to have a couple of issues. It all started particularly when I put a new stereo in him. It was wonderful, right up to the minute the top started to go up and down at will. A little hard to act super hip, when your roof just starts to ascend at his own will. Then a little scrape here and there, we hit the house once, and about 5 tickets. What a pal!
Now? There is a For Sale sign in the window. He has been fixed, and I feel a little guilty that I got a new car. Not new off the lot “new,” but definitely new to me. It is a Mini Cooper wagon. I named him Ernest after Hemingway, and his license will read Indyrytr. (Indie writer)
Cars are a lot like old friends. The things that have transpired in that car have been the big moments both good and bad in my life. I will try and keep the wagon for the next ten years. It has been a week and I have yet to scratch him, haven’t backed into one of our vehicles, and I haven’t been pulled over, even though he is the sport model.
My mom always wanted a '39 Ford because that was the first car she had. Some years back, my dad found one, and had it shipped from Pennsylvania to here. She never drove it, not once that I can remember, and when my uncle fell ill, my mom let him have the car. Now they are both gone, and I wonder where that '39 Ford is. I suspect it is in the barn on the land my uncle owned in Arkansas. I wish I could get it back and let my brother have the car. It would be a great feeling to see it sitting in my parents' drive, even if for a day.
I will not leave out the Bentley that my Pops has driven exactly twice. That car sits in the garage that has a custom black and white checked floor. I will admit that while he was in Ireland, Lex and I MAY have taken it for a small spin. (allegedly). But he wasn’t going to hand over the keys, so we had to “Ferris Bueller” the thing. You have no clue how much like a boat that car is. But I will admit the looks are constant, especially in a smaller rural town like this one.
I will miss the VW. I won’t let it go to just anybody. They must love the VW line, and understand the little glitches that make them great stories. They also must have the $3500 I am asking. That last one is key to me. I have had 9 convertibles, and this is the first time in a long while when the air is not loud and blowing things everywhere. But it is time to say “so long.”
I have yet to hit the comfort zone with the wagon, but one day I will. Perhaps it will be this weekend on his first trip to LA. I hope Herbie gets a great home, that they finish restoring him, and I hope to see him around town. I would bet there will be a tear in my eye as I see him drive away with his new family. Treat him right. He has been a great car and a good friend. We all need those.
I will let you know how my car sale goes. In the mean time, support indie writers, and we will talk again tomorrow. Ruth