For those of you who don’t know, I’m sort of a physics geek,
and so when the opportunity arose for me to find out what would happen when both my
car and a deer attempted to occupy the same spot at the same time, I leapt at
the chance.
Or maybe it was the deer who was into physics and who leapt
at the chance. I don’t really remember. It all happened pretty fast.
Regardless of the instigator of the experiment, the end result
was some damage being taken by the trusty Honda.
I assume the deer also incurred some damage, but he didn’t
stick around long enough to swap insurance information. Maybe he had to get back to his
home to discuss his scientific findings with the other deer nerds.
But I digress. My reason I’m writing this isn’t to discuss
the deer, but rather the trusty Honda.
I’ve had the Honda for close to 10 years and 160,000 miles,
and we’ve become very close. We never have too much to say to each other, but
it’s always been a comfortable silence that’s existed between us. Plus, it
never minds when I feel the need to belt out George
Strait
I’ve heard it said that the kind of car you buy
reflects the type of person you are, and in my case, I believe it to be true.
The Honda isn’t much to look at, but it also doesn’t send
you screaming away in terror – at least not that I’ve noticed – and while I might be wrong, I feel like I also fit that description.
The Honda is also pretty quiet (it doesn’t even have
rear speakers) and for the most part, I try not to be too loud.
The Honda is reliable. Besides routine maintenance, it rarely
has to go into the shop, and in my case, I’m pretty sure my primary care
physician is, at this point, Dr. Cox from Scrubs.
The Honda is low-tech. It has no blind-spot detector or backup
camera. There’s no GPS or DVD player, and it most definitely doesn’t get
WIFI. As for me, while I carry a smart phone like everybody else, I have no plans of ever wearing smart glasses, a smart watch, or smart clothing. A phone is more
than enough. The day my watch tells me to look at my phone so I can read a
text is the day I hurl myself off a cliff. (Assuming Google maps can direct me
to one.)
In addition, the Honda has plenty of room in the rear to
carry around my stuff, including a volleyball, a basketball,
horseshoes, and a tennis racket. I guess, for lack of better words, you could
say there’s a lot of junk in the trunk. As for me – wait, what’s that? That’s
enough with the parallels? It’s time to move on with the essay? Well, I guess
so…
As you can probably see, the Honda is more than just a car
to me, and so after the deer incident, there was never any question in my mind
as to if I’d abandon it. No, the decision was always to get it fixed. Luckily, it
remained in a driveable condition, and it’s been meeting my
transportation needs ever since. It reminds me of a basketball player who
sprains his ankle but gets right back into the game. “Just tape it up and get
me back out there!” is the Honda’s motto.
Now, however, the Honda’s appointment at the body shop is
drawing near, and I’m getting nervous. We’re going to be apart for the
better part of a week, and separation anxiety is beginning to set in. Also, I’m worried that the repairs will be a too invasive or there’ll be unforeseen complications.
Talk about stressful! All I know for sure is that I’ll be anxiously awaiting
the phone call where I'm told the repairs went well and the Honda is resting quietly,
waiting for me to pick him… er it up.
Assuming everything goes well, there’s one thing I’d like to
do when it's all said and done: give the Honda a proper nickname. I’ve been
trying to for years, but nothing has stuck. It’s not rough-and-tumble enough to be
a “Hoss” and it’s not decayed enough to be a “Rusty.” Sure,
it’s been called the Grandpa-Mobile on more than one occasion, but I’d like to come up
with something a little more edgy. Any suggestions? If not, I’ll have plenty of
time to mull it over, because when it’s in the shop I’m sure I won’t be getting
any sleep.
