The End of an Era?

My car died today.

I'm taking it pretty well, I'd say.

It was a teal Ford Escort, which served me well for the two years I drove it, but I never felt like it was "my car". I never felt I could love it, and care for it, and roll it into my identity. In fact, it was just the opposite. Often, I found myself apologizing for it, neglecting it, and feeling as if it was simply just a transport from point A to point B, as bland as white bread and water. Ultimately, that's what a car is for, I suppose; it just needs to get you from one place to the other -- that's bare minimum.

Now, I realize that I've been extremely lucky with cars, and that there's plenty of people out there that don't have vehicles and get along fine without them. Well, I'm not those people.

For me, a car is essential, I need it for my job, for my social life, and for my sanity. There's nothing more lyrical to me than an open road and a full tank of gas -- ten times a day, I'd trade anything to be in that situation. Maybe that says something about our culture, and I could spend hours dissecting the love affair between America and its cars, but I wont go into that, I'll just say this: "If the shoe fits: wear it."

The bottom line is that I want a car I can care about, something that I've bought with my hard-earned cash, something that I choose, not something that was handed down to me. Really, it's a rite of passage. It's about growing up.

And that's why I'm not too upset about it at this point. Yes, maybe I'm only looking at the sunny side of this and haven't fully grasped the consequences and financial impact this will have on me, but I do know this:

It's the end of the Escort era...

[I will survive]

Half the fun is getting there.

I'm just going to go ahead and term the entire trip as "the unintentional exploration of parts of Illinois and Indiana".

Such was my journey to the Farm.

I embarked from the fair Grand Rapids at around 6:30 in the evening, for, that is when I had finished with my work for the day.

The sun was high and golden, and there wasn't a cloud in sight. It was a beautiful time to be on the road.

The weather continued like this for the duration of the Michigan leg as I traveled South down the I-196 corridor. It was slow and calm and peaceful. My music of choice was the Elizabethtown soundtrack (specifically designed for such a trip) and I believe there was some Arcade fire in there as well.

Rounding the tail-end of Lake Michigan, I now found myself in Indiana, and a bladder full of raspberry tea, and so, a quick stop in Porter was in order to take care of the problem.

The pumps were packed, as was the giant warehouse of illegal fireworks across the street (let's think about that for moment). I parked my car and, while walking inside, spied one of those creepy, idiotic motorcyclists that still thinks Easy Rider is "liek teh best movie evar!1!!" Yeah, those guys. I wish I carried more random weapons in my car to appear more intimidating, but, I suppose that's what the New York accent is for.

My point is that you havent' really stared danger int he face until you've pulled over for gas at a truck stop in Indiana.

Moving along now, having missed my exit, I find myself in the thick of construction, and searching for a way out. Enter the iPhone, my trusty little electronic map (that requires batteries to use it. more on that later...) I use the iPhone to fine myself an alternate route.

Indiana 394 as it was just drifting into twilight. Ah, beauty. Rolling stones compelemented the setting sun perfectly, and a smoky-voiced Norah Jones took me through the maroon and deep purple of the dusk. This combination mixed with the country breezes wafting through the open windows and you have perfection, magic, enchantment, so much so, that I missed my road... again.... while I was taking this picture... like an idiot...

To be fair, this being the Illinois countryside and all, the road wasn't exactly labeled.

It was, however, only a few minutes after I passed these towers that I realized I was lost for that was when I saw the sign welcoming back to Indiana. Curses.

I looked down at my traitorous phone, trying to parse the necessary information to right my course, and when I looked up, all had gone dark, and I entered the woods. For just a moment, I was tempted to run my car into the ditch, fearing I'd just entered a waking nightmare and Freddy Kreuger would be showing up at any moment.

But I suppressed that, and promptly turned around (cursing, of course) and drove back. Then, I took the picture on the left, and made my proper turn. Then, my phone died.

So, I had to pull out the ol' sextant and chart my way home using the stars.

I made it to my destination, of course, but now, I have scurvy.

I can only hope my trip back is as eventful.

Cheers,

[Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long]