the car

Twas a busy day.  Went to Mass early, and then planned to meet a friend to work out.  Those plans went out the window, when another friend who moved 7 hours away 3 or 4 years ago, called to say she was passing through town.  Met her for donuts instead.  Such is life.

Using our holiday wisely, we then paid a visit to my parents today, with nothing on the agenda other than visiting.  No birthday.  No egg hunt.  No presents to open.  (Well, maybe a couple of presents, since I was delivering a couple of late Christmas gifts...one that didn't make it on time and a couple of giftcards that got left behind Christmas Day.)

We had a pleasant afternoon and evening.  We enjoyed the antics of my nephew/God child.  Little kids are so much fun!

 

It was a nice day, so we spent some time outside.  One of my kids tried the door handle on The Car and found that is was open...

 

The Car has always been there.  Or for the past 40 years or so. 

This is The Car that I went to kindergarten in.  Back in 1969.

Prior to that time we had been a 1-car family.  

But bus service wasn't provided for kindergartners, so the 1968 Dodge Polara joined our family.

It was a 2-door with a black interior.  Can you say "hot"?

Robin's Egg Blue?  Turquoise?

Probably more turquoise.  You couldn't quite call it blue.  Or green.

It was in the day before power windows.

Before they had head rests on the back of the seats.

It was a tank.

I learned to drive using it.

I drove it when I needed a car in college.

Not everyone can say they drove the same car in college that their mother used to deliver them to kindergarten.

It took LEADED gas.

We called it the Batmobile.

It was fun for "Chinese Fire Drills". 
Do stupid young people still do that?  Or is it too politically incorrect?

I retired it in 1986 when I graduated and bought a nice fuel efficient, Honda Accord Hatchback.

The last inspection sticker on it is from 1994.

Before my boys were born.

It has survived hurricanes and all matter of weather.

But the years have not been kind.

It has patiently waited for restoration, which will not come.

It's too late.

I tried taking a black and white picture.

Hoping it would hide some of its glaring imperfections.

It didn't really work.

So what's my point?
None, really.
Just documenting a piece of family history/memorabilia/nostalgia.

Guess if I wanted to draw a spiritual connection, we could be thankful that we are never beyond restoration - no matter what the years hold for us, and how glaring our imperfections.