I think my car may be a cockroach. If Armageddon ever comes, it won’t be the meek who inherit the Earth. It will be all those unkillable cockroaches – driving Geo Trackers.
suppose the best of best of all was that it was cheap. We didn’t need a
limousine, just a snow car. This one might actually qualify as a
I loved it, but only expected to see it around for a couple of years.
But it didn’t die in the eastern Oregon snow. And when
moved, the rain in Eugene couldn’t wash the smile off of its grill. (I
know, it’s not a smile. But the little thing always looks happy. It
was, after all, made in Canada).
Every year since
then, I’ve expected it to die. Then I change the spark plugs, get a new
battery or have it tuned up.. Away it goes again. Even when Garrett and I
used it to tow a trailerful of our lives halfway across the country to
Missouri, it didn’t balk.
It’s a cockroach, I swear. You can’t swat it with unabridged dictionary.
said, it is 25 years old. It still looks sharp in the driveway, with
its black knobby tires in contrast with its still-white sides. But it
take a minute or two of cranking to fire up the engine in the morning
and the broken parking brake cable is unavailable at any price.
So just as I start seriously thinking about trading it in, what do I see?
Green ones, red ones and familiar white ones. Cecile commented that
there seem to be more Geo Tracker’s on the road now than ever. I think
its just the immortality factor. It doesn’t matter how insignificant you
were when you started, being the last one standing puts you at the top
of the heap. Or in this case, heaps.
So who knows, another year for my little cockroach? Maybe a shot of Canadian Club in the tank . . .