(no subject)
So my dad did one of his usual, "go-somewhere-but-didn't-leave-a-note" things, so he wasn't here when I got home today. I was a little worried, but he came home a few minutes later.
"Where were you, Dad?" I asked.
"Just... out and about." (walks to bathroom)
[five minutes elapse and he returns]
"Where now?" I ask again.
"Here, I'll show you."
So my brother and I walk outside, and parked in the driveway was a nice-looking, midsized black vehicle. A 98 Oldsmobile LSS from Rich, a man my dad works with. "To replace the 84 (the 22 year old brown van my dad drives)," Dad said. But one look at the new car's shiny black leather interior and I knew this wasn't going to replace the 84, as my dad uses his car for not only driving to work but also for hauling 2x4s, drills and assorted bits, saws, shingles, recycled cans, and the like. He said that he'd just use my car when he needed to haul wood, but I knew that wasn't the case. I had an idea that the cars would be shifted around, and that the LSS was to be my new default car. He didn't tell me this for sure until my mom got home.:
Mom: So did you drive it yet?
Me: No... why?
Mom: Just wondering. It's not my car.
Me: (testing) It's not mine, either.
Dad: Yes it is.
Me:...
And then (back turned to them as I washed dishes) I started crying! What? Why did I cry? Now, I don't want to seem unappreciative, and I know that my dad is LONG overdue for a really nice, reliable car, but... i love my green minivan! Affectionately dubbed "Big Papa" by my friends, I've had some really great memories in it. Like the time all my CRHP buddies and i piled into the trunk of it after a meeting. Or the time when the back seats were out and Katie and I ate Blizzards in the open space. Or at Palermo's, when Rick and I fogged up the windows, shook it side-to-side and freaked out the person parked across from us. Or all the silly, sweet notes that Arturo stuck underneath the wiperblades. Or when Amy and I drove with Liz's weird friend. [or the time Amy closed its doors on Rick's fingers. It's been called The Legspreader, The Shaggin' Wagon, The Bedroom-on-Wheels, and so many others. It carried me to and from school and work, and pie and shopping, and other such friend outings. Heck, it even made a guest appearence in The 3rd period Honors English Group 1's short film summary of The Canterbury Tale's "Squire's Tale" as the honeymoon getway car ("Ye in Wedded Bliss!" spirit-foamed on its side).
Why did I cry? It is because i have so many memories attached to it that I am reluctant to leave it. I'm sad at the thought of cleaning it out, of taking the half-melted "I-r-i-s-h" and shamrock gel clings down from the windows, of removing the "God is <3" and "Support Illinois Libraries!" bumper stickers off.
This new car doesn't seem as friendly as Big Papa. It's leather seats are too nice to toss papers and books on, or to drink smoothies on my way to school in it. This new car is sleek and sporty, not familiar and cozy. In a way, it represents a new me, one that I'm reluctant to obtain. Recently I've been trying to "finish up" my weight loss effots and lose the last 15 or so pounds. I guess deep down, I'm scared to finally have a "sleek exterior."
A different car also symbolizes moving on, and because the old car had so many friend memories, the new car symbolizes a whole new school and whole new friends. I know that I'm looking forward to college, and making a fresh new start and being better than I was in high school. I guess the new car reminds me that things aren't going to be the same. Just as St. Xavier has many more oppertunities than McAuley, this car has a few nicer things than the green one: A CD player, a working radio and tape player, AC, all its original panels... (hee hee)
A CD player. I guess I could get used to that.
I'll never forget Big Papa or the memories attached to it. At least it'll still be in the family, and I'm glad my dad will have a reliable car. I'm going to let him keep the angel bear and St. Joseph statue in there; they kept me safe and will keep him safe too. I'll learn to love the new one, but for FAMmie reunions on spring and Christmas breaks...
I'll drive Dad's car.
"Where were you, Dad?" I asked.
"Just... out and about." (walks to bathroom)
[five minutes elapse and he returns]
"Where now?" I ask again.
"Here, I'll show you."
So my brother and I walk outside, and parked in the driveway was a nice-looking, midsized black vehicle. A 98 Oldsmobile LSS from Rich, a man my dad works with. "To replace the 84 (the 22 year old brown van my dad drives)," Dad said. But one look at the new car's shiny black leather interior and I knew this wasn't going to replace the 84, as my dad uses his car for not only driving to work but also for hauling 2x4s, drills and assorted bits, saws, shingles, recycled cans, and the like. He said that he'd just use my car when he needed to haul wood, but I knew that wasn't the case. I had an idea that the cars would be shifted around, and that the LSS was to be my new default car. He didn't tell me this for sure until my mom got home.:
Mom: So did you drive it yet?
Me: No... why?
Mom: Just wondering. It's not my car.
Me: (testing) It's not mine, either.
Dad: Yes it is.
Me:...
And then (back turned to them as I washed dishes) I started crying! What? Why did I cry? Now, I don't want to seem unappreciative, and I know that my dad is LONG overdue for a really nice, reliable car, but... i love my green minivan! Affectionately dubbed "Big Papa" by my friends, I've had some really great memories in it. Like the time all my CRHP buddies and i piled into the trunk of it after a meeting. Or the time when the back seats were out and Katie and I ate Blizzards in the open space. Or at Palermo's, when Rick and I fogged up the windows, shook it side-to-side and freaked out the person parked across from us. Or all the silly, sweet notes that Arturo stuck underneath the wiperblades. Or when Amy and I drove with Liz's weird friend. [or the time Amy closed its doors on Rick's fingers. It's been called The Legspreader, The Shaggin' Wagon, The Bedroom-on-Wheels, and so many others. It carried me to and from school and work, and pie and shopping, and other such friend outings. Heck, it even made a guest appearence in The 3rd period Honors English Group 1's short film summary of The Canterbury Tale's "Squire's Tale" as the honeymoon getway car ("Ye in Wedded Bliss!" spirit-foamed on its side).
Why did I cry? It is because i have so many memories attached to it that I am reluctant to leave it. I'm sad at the thought of cleaning it out, of taking the half-melted "I-r-i-s-h" and shamrock gel clings down from the windows, of removing the "God is <3" and "Support Illinois Libraries!" bumper stickers off.
This new car doesn't seem as friendly as Big Papa. It's leather seats are too nice to toss papers and books on, or to drink smoothies on my way to school in it. This new car is sleek and sporty, not familiar and cozy. In a way, it represents a new me, one that I'm reluctant to obtain. Recently I've been trying to "finish up" my weight loss effots and lose the last 15 or so pounds. I guess deep down, I'm scared to finally have a "sleek exterior."
A different car also symbolizes moving on, and because the old car had so many friend memories, the new car symbolizes a whole new school and whole new friends. I know that I'm looking forward to college, and making a fresh new start and being better than I was in high school. I guess the new car reminds me that things aren't going to be the same. Just as St. Xavier has many more oppertunities than McAuley, this car has a few nicer things than the green one: A CD player, a working radio and tape player, AC, all its original panels... (hee hee)
A CD player. I guess I could get used to that.
I'll never forget Big Papa or the memories attached to it. At least it'll still be in the family, and I'm glad my dad will have a reliable car. I'm going to let him keep the angel bear and St. Joseph statue in there; they kept me safe and will keep him safe too. I'll learn to love the new one, but for FAMmie reunions on spring and Christmas breaks...
I'll drive Dad's car.