Monday, July 25, 2011

A Tribute to James -- Part One (of Three)

I think that most people, at some point in time, can honestly say that they love an inanimate object. Not “love” as in “I want to marry a moped,” but simply a strong fondness for an object. It can be anything … a piece of furniture, a house or home, an article of clothing … and in America, quite often our automobile. After all, we as a society, spend a great deal of time in our cars. They are a requirement of life. It is something that you likely spend some time with each and every single day of your lives.

I have owned a number of cars in my life and I have been fond of most (certainly not all) of them. But only one has ever captured my heart. Only one vehicle can I say I truly loved. This is a dedication to him:

(… and, yes, I realize I used “him” instead of “it” … and with good reason!)

Oops! I'm Gonna Need a Car!

In October of 2007, I packed up my few belongings and moved from New York to Wilmington NC. I was at a low point in my life … I felt as though a nervous breakdown would occur any moment … and I had hoped that a change of scenery filled with warmer weather and beautiful beaches would help heal the physical, emotional and mental wounds I was suffering from. I had a job waiting on me, the money was okay (the company was filled with idiots, but whatever) and I would be nearer my precious Ty. It all seemed great!

Once in Wilmington however, it quickly dawned on me that living in a metropolis and living in a smaller community were two different things … and would have different requirements. Like a car.

See, for the last several years in NYC, I had been without a car. I didn't need one. I took public transportation everywhere I went. Having a car was actually a bit of a hassle … during the time I did have one, I accumulated hundreds (and hundreds) of dollars worth of parking tickets. But once I arrived in Wilmington it was readily apparent that I would need a vehicle … and I would need one quick. The only problem: I had spend quite literally every penny I had just to move. So I would rely on friends to provide transportation for a few weeks … something we all (at least, the majority of American males) find a bit embarrassing.

The Red Blazer at the Auto Auction

Three weeks later (and just a week before Thanksgiving), a friend and I go to an auto auction in Whiteville. Neither of us had any intention of buying a car. I only had about $700 to my name and couldn't dream of buying anything (that wasn't a piece of crap) for that … but we both thought we would get an idea of what type of vehicles they had (we were both in a position where we were going to have to buy something soon) so that maybe the following month, one or both of us could make a purchase.

The auction was actually cool … a whole lot of cars worth six or seven thousand were going for only two or three thousand … but this was way out of our price range. There were several heaps of garbage going cheap too … in fact we both had a laugh when a pair of Mexican brothers bought a Honda Accord with over 500,000 miles on it … it looked like shit and was spewing oil. Then again, they got it for only $200 cash … I guess, not bad in the long run. After a few hours of checking out the cars and being paranoid that any slight movement would mean I accidentally put in a bid, they wheeled in this 1991 Chevy Blazer. Ah! It was perfect. A little beat up, but it ran okay. The bidding began at $1500. Too bad I didn't have any money …

Then a surprising thing happened: nobody bid on the Blazer. The auction was thinning out. Those who had made purchases were getting paperwork done or were already on their way home. Another couple of dozen folks were like me and my friend, just spectators for the day. The auctioneer then looked over at the owner, they had a quick whispered discussion, and then they lowered the opening bid to $1000. Ah, so close.

But again, nothing happened. The owner and auctioneer had another (longer) whispered conversation. “The opening bid has been lowered to $500.” Before I even knew what I was doing, I was nodding at the auctioneer … I had just placed a bid on a car. Somebody else bid $525. I bid $550. Going once. Going twice. Sold!

Suddenly a panic hit me: I had just agreed to purchase a car. I had enough money in the bank account. There was one problem though … I didn't have a driver's license! In NYC, I had let is slide and didn't renew it … and you had to have a driver's license to purchase a car. Uh oh! Now we had a dilemma … the first of many …

Thinking quickly, I convinced my buddy that actually HE was buying the Blazer. Sure, I would be paying for it, but we would have to put the title in his name. Then, once I got my driver's license, we would transfer the title to my name. Okay, one problem solved. The next problem was that there was no plate on the car … not even a temporary plate. Little did I know the auction house wasn't responsible for that. While most people were loading up their purchases to be towed home, we weren't exactly prepared for that. I would have to drive it back to Wilmington with no plates. No worries, my buddy could just follow me in his car and stay close enough so that no cops could pull in behind me.

I hopped in, started him up and he sounded great. The gas gauge said I had over a quarter of a tank, so it should be plenty to get home and get it parked in the driveway … I could worry about everything else later. Twenty minutes later I learned the first little quirk of my new Blazer … the gas gauge didn't work! I ran out of gas a good 20 miles from Wilmington and home … and neither I nor my buddy had a gas can. Frustrated, but laughing, I climbed in my buddy's car and we turned back a few miles to the nearest service station and began to fill up any and every empty bottle he had in the car … two liter Coke bottles, a few smaller water bottles, you name it. After a nearly hour-long adventure of filling up bottles, taking them to the Blazer, pouring the gas and then getting him started up and back to the service station to actually put a safe amount of fuel in, we were back on the road. Minutes later I was home with my new red Blazer in the driveway. It wasn't legal to drive, but it was MINE … well, in theory.

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