I's 3 A M as I sit down in total darkness, hoping a light above my head will trigger something worthwhile to write. Apparently this time of the day is when my mind is as slowed down as it gets. I have chronic anemia and when I push myself too hard I pay the price, such is the case now. I'm like an old automobile with frayed interior, my paint is dull, the mechanical part still runs, a mite weaker, week by week. Rather I'd compare myself to an old, yet still reliable work truck. My engine, rear end, transmission makes a heap more noise, as it grunts and groans and shinny's. Them fancy new young trucks fly by me all shiny with their big ass tires all painted with tire black. Fricking stereos a blasting with music that makes me shiver. Headed somewhere and getting nowhere fast. What is it, that they raise their pick up trucks so high I could not get in one, if my life depended on it. I've been a pondering on buying me a newer pick up, my old one is a 93 model and tired just like me. It's
five speed and old Glen be tired of shifting them gears. I have been driving a van for several years and I grow tired of it. It's a 97 and maybe I should get into the new millennia. Then I started thinkin, I know, now all hells gonna break loose! My sister bought this Monte Carlo in 95. She drove it about six years then give it to me. It had been sittin for bout a year and was still to nice a car and it was red, yep a nice color I lika red, on any vehicle. Well now I fix it up and drive it for a few months. It fit my big posterior real good. I like the way it drove, yes I did! Around this time my momma's old citation went ka-put. She needed wheels, and I had that one extra so I gave her that pretty Monte Carlo. She drove it about ten years and don't drive anymore. So It's been parked here at my house for over a year. I'm thinkin about bringing it back to life once again, slapping a new paint job on it. Why? It has a history you see. It's been in the family for a lot of years. My mother drove it maybe twice a week to get her hair done and to the grocery store. Interior is still new like from seat covers being on it. The body shows no rust. Sun has taken it's toil, body creaks and groans just like mine.
I certainly can afford a new pick up but that's not the point here. I would look good in my shiny new toy. As one ages one learns to appreciate certain things in life. It becomes about life itself. I have not one iota of doubt that driving that old car with family history well . . . it would just feel right! I could make this old car like new again, but it's the love the history it holds, just feels right!
THIS LITTLE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS IS WHAT I LOVE. SIT DOWN BEFORE BEDTIME AND AWAY I GO. IT JUST FEELS RIGHT!