the death of the Mazda

She sits on the driveway, plateless, pathetic, in worse, but not much worse, shape than she was originally found in. I doubt if she even knows it, but last night was her last hurrah.

In a lot of ways, the death of a guy's first car feels like Ol' Yeller, or Where the Red Fern Grows, or something like that. A noble service has been rendered, and now, for reasons beyond the car's control (inability to pass an emissions test, inability to handle highway driving, and new weird noises developing daily, notwithstanding), she is to be put out to pasture.

Of course, I'll keep a peice of her. And, I'll always have the memories... like, beating Justin's Corolla SR5 down... well, several stretches of road in Peterborough. It shouldn't have been possible... especially since Justin is the far better driver of the two of us. But then, the little blue mazda was sort of like Herby the Love bug or something. The original, not the remake.

And then, there was my first ever snow storm driving, the year after I left KLBC, in Peterborough after their Christmas Banquet, picking up my little brother, and cruising with Luke Bruce. She could do e-brake turns with the best of them.

So, I guess this is my eulogy for a mazda. May she rest in peace.