There are a few problems with my car. The leather is ripped on the passenger seat. The steering wheel is out of alignment. The driver’s side tire seems to have a slow leak. Aside from that though, it’s a solid vehicle. A solid, massive, heavy paperweight. It can take you from Point A to Point A. 0 to 0 in 60 seconds. Farfignogo. Jeep Cherokant. It’s a dead car.
I spent all of Thursday in Detroit, networking with the film community and other Southfield business owners. I forced myself to talk to strangers and tackled scary Detroit rush hour traffic without a map. It was all way out of my comfort zone but a complete rush. I was finally out in the world, taking a real step towards starting a new life. My Jeep however decided that it had seen enough of this world.
There was knocking sound from the engine. Then a flash of flames followed by a plume of smoke from under the hood. I should have been panicked or shocked, but all I felt was resigned. The Jeep had endured the endless commute to Midland and five summers of DJ trailer hauling. I knew this day was coming.
I eased over to the side of the road and and called Ryan. He said to sit tight as he just had to get some water in Birch Run and then he would be back to get me. “YOU COME GET ME NOW!!” I replied calmly.
Ryan was kind enough to scrap plans for water and found the closest turn around. It didn’t even bother me when he came in too hot and slammed into the back of my car. Ironically there wasn’t a scratch on the Jeep, but my trailer hitch did about $500 in damage to his bumper cover. It was just a rough night for all involved.
Ryan turned my ignition and listened briefly to the engine. “Yep, you swallowed a valve. The engine’s shot.” There was no time to mourn though as we had to quickly exit the scene. I scrambled to get the valuables out of the car, but it was dark. I left behind one leather glove, one rollerblade wrist guard, a book of stamps, a brand new bottle of Zyrtec, and several CD’s. I’m sure there are more items that I don’t miss yet but will soon.
A car is just a thing. An object with no emotions. I’ve had several and I’ve never thought of myself as attached or connected to them. Yet leaving my car abandoned on the side of the road was a horrible feeling. All alone. Out in the coldest night of the year. I’m sorry man!!!
It could have been worse though. I drove it all over Southfield earlier that day. If it had popped in the middle of Detroit traffic, it would have been a very very bad scene. Instead it managed to hold out till the roads were clear and Ryan was close by. I am truly grateful for this. I thank my car for going the distance, putting in mile after brutal mile. You will be missed.
And now I face a world without wheels.