We said goodbye to an almost 20-year member of our car family today, my husband's 1993 Buick LeSabre. It was a true "grandpa car" in every sense. For one thing it originally belonged to Norm's dad, who bought it new out of the showroom. A lot of things happened in and around that car, and it drove like the big bad boat that it was, logging a mere 60,000 original miles.
It took an unceremonious dump in the middle of the road on my husband's way home from work last night. The rusted out motor mounts gave way and it literally dropped the engine and simultaneously lost steering ability. Then it laid its front tire against the curb and that was that. Thankfully it made it through the intersection before giving up the ghost, right there in front of the taxi service. How ironic.
We had it towed off to the junkyard today by a stubby man smoking an equally proportioned cigar, who kvetched about writing a check for junk value. I suppose that's in his job description, kvetching. He got a full tank of gas out of the deal, as we had just filled her up two days ago, but he even had a negative remark about that. Whatever, stubby dude.
This got me thinking about what I would have been doing when that car was brand new, and if my math is correct, I was getting my daughter ready for kindergarten. Seems like both yesterday and a lifetime ago.
I also looked at the Top 100 songs of 1993. Whitney Houston had the number one spot, but I chose to embed two that I actually owned CDs for and played regularly. Both Raphael Saddiq (of TTT) and Jon Bon Jovi are still going strong with no outward signs of rust.