Monday, May 18, 2009
MY MY and the Little Brown M&M
In 1977 my dad bought a 911. We called it a Porsche, one syllable without the "UH" at the end. That was before car seats as we know them, and I remember we three kids packed in the backseat of that little car, our blanket purposefully billowing out of the top. My dad and I went to Montana in that car, just he and I loaded down with Big Hunks and beer. I got to drive it once, in the middle of tourist season in Lincoln City. I was a nervous wreck.
Through the years and our many moves, the Porsche was eventually stored in our garage, replaced with newer and bigger toys, though that didn't keep my dad from lamenting every near scratch that occurred as we would walk past. Despite our efforts, it would receive a few choice "DINGS" over the years, like the legendary one left when our neighbor John Bates, renowned neighborhood Sousaphone player, dropped a fishing pole on it and left a mark.
Fast forward thirty-two years later and the Porsche, last licensed ten years earlier, became buried in "debris" in my parent's garage. In April my brothers and I teamed up with my mom to clean her garage, and we uncovered the car that I liken to a brown M&M. It looked pretty good. It had housed some mice, but luckily still smelled like it used to smell, leathery. I remembered the furry upholstery's interior, how I would smooth it in one direction and write things in the nap. I remember the novelty of snapping on the radio without having to have the key in and how I loved to sit in it, with someone trusted, listening to music, undisturbed.
My mom is having the car overhauled so she can drive it. That had been her goal upon turning sixty, but my dad did nothing to encourage that. When he died, she was a little more empowered to revive it. She had it reinsured, and is putting personalized plates on it. My dad always called a fancy woman a "MY MY" and that is what her plates will read as she tools around town. The car has 76,000 miles on it, and many left to drive for someone like my mom, full of life, full of memories, determined to gun her motor and go.
at 10:02 AM