Men tend to develop affections for their vehicles. But rarely does a family.
A blue Impala became the family car in 1968. Dad couldn't have been prouder to own this sleek machine. However this car became more than just a car. It was as if she had a life of her own, which she gave to us her family. Our “blue beauty” as she is aptly dubbed shone like a queen in all her glory. Her sleek blue body, accented with dazzling chrome fenders and trim made her quite regal. Her seats were the softest leather, supple and luxurious to the touch.
Little did anyone know she would be the last car my dad would own. If a man gets attached with a nostalgic sentiment to the first car he owns, it seems he has an even bigger attachment for his last car - at least this was true in my dad's case.
In the years following 1968 our blue beauty, became like a classical melody, as her life saw life in all its glory. From being a faithful and comfortable companion to take my dad to Lockheed Aircraft to work for the next eight years until he retired from thirty-five years with the company to a romantic trip for mom and dad, to Niagara Falls for their honeymoon, which was slightly delayed about thirty years. (Some times when the Country is on the brink of war, important things like honeymoons get delayed)..
Our blue beauty saw other adventures in the years which followed her arrival to our household. From joyous ones like my two sister's weddings, dad's retirement, the birth of my sister's children, multiple trips to Mammoth Lakes and Yosemite National Park for fishing. To sadder trips like my grandmother's and mom's funeral. The car had seen it all.
She had weathered the coldest of weather climbing over Loveland Pass an altitude of near 12,000 feet at timberline, without needing a tow. And the hottest of weather, crossing the Mojave Desert in the heat of July, with temperatures in the triple digits. She always perform with integrity and elegance.
In 2005, dad thinking he heard the angels softly blowing their trumpets for his homecoming, signed the blue beauty over to me. But the Lord had a different plan, dad called it, more borrowed time. With a sense of grateful pride I was thrilled to accept the keys to this regal lady's heart.
She continued to sing for the next three years as I drove her around town and on short trips. And during thesethree years she netted me more masculine attention than any girl should have in a life time! (I enjoyed it even though I knew it was only the car these gents were looking at.) One has to admit the facts, once a lady reaches that age known as middle age things change. As the late Dale Evans-Rogers once said in defining middle age, “its when a gal is too young for medi-care and too old for men to care!” That being as it may be, it was still fun.
Now as dad and I plan to move to Oregon from our Southern California home, we were made to realize by several mechanical wizards of automotive genius, that this old belle would not last too long on the cold, wet, snowy roads of Oregon.
Far better, we decided to sell her to a fellow Southern California, and let her remain in her warm Mediterranean climate. Hopefully we will find the person who realized her worth and the fact we have “dolled” her up as much as finances would permit, with new seat covers to replace her slightly worn black gown, and new rims on each tire, which shine like silver slippers. Where she ached, had a pain, showed distress we called out our marvelous car doctor to fix it, good as new.
Our blue beauty still sings a fine melody. She is ready to give some person a few more years of pleasure and service. Who knows, with TLC she could be brought back to the days of her youth, stealing the applause at every classic car show.
