Friday, January 13, 2006

Tragedy Strikes Tabbyland!

I don’t even know where to begin….this morning my parents came into the city to do me a favour. They brought my beloved truck to the garage for a checkup. I had scheduled the appointment for no reason that I could put my finger on. I just had a feeling something wasn’t right. I guess my girl had the vehicular equivalent of “B symptoms” (weight loss, fever, night sweats), nonspecific red flags which raise the index of suspicion for cancer.

My mum dropped me off at the hospital this morning and my dad took the truck in for her appointment. When I called my parents mid morning for an update on the situation I immediately knew something was up. “It’s bad news” my mum warned. I braced myself. Would my girl require hundreds of dollars worth of repairs?

It was worse than I could’ve imagined. The truck would never again leave the garage, I was told. She was no longer road worthy. It was a miracle I hadn’t killed myself on the highway.

“She’s undeniably palliative” they told me.

Stunned, I asked about the nature of the problem: Metastatic illness! The tie rods(?) which coordinate wheel movement are holding on by a thread. The steering column is barely keeping it real. The back breaks went to powder in the mechanic’s hands. The gas line, brake line, and engine coolant thingy, all on the verge of being rusted right through. How was all of this possible?

The mechanic was amazed that my girl hadn’t been involved in a major accident. But I’m not surprised. He doesn’t know what she’s made of. For 12 years that truck started without fail, with no block heater, even on the coldest days. She never left me stranded, even saved my ass a few times in some pretty dicey situations, ran for miles on fumes on several occasions, and got me home relatively close to curfew so many times in high school. She moved me to Waterloo with ease and then moved me and my friends from student house to student house to student house over many years…I’ve laughed in that truck, cried in that truck, smooched in that truck….

I know it’s not normal to feel so much attachment to an inanimate object. Maybe I have some kind of autistic spectrum disorder or something? I can’t say. I just know that when I went to pick up my yoga mat, jumper cables, and window scraper, it was with a heavy heart that I bid my girl farewell. I guess I just didn’t think it would end quite this way.

We had some good times didn’t we girl? Thank you for keeping me safe and making my social life as a teenager just a little less traumatic. Goodbye my sweet little S10 extended cab. I will forever miss your pink and white racing stripe and all that heart under your hood.



Blogger Nick Iannitti said...

A true tragedy of our age. That truck had already warmed its way into my heart as well. Though I do recall a time when the steering wheel seemed to be making the car turn in the opposite direction of where one was trying to turn or something. Did my mind make that up? Was I driving the truck once when that happened? It's a very vague memory, but I remember the wheel doing a full rotation.

4:41 PM  
Blogger telltale tabby said...

Dear Nick,

I don't think we need to rehash those kinds of details now. Yes, she had a dead battery a couple of years ago, which caused her steering mechanism to go awry. Overall though, I think we can both agree that she was a fabulous and reliable beauty.

6:38 PM  

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