My mother snapped a picture of me as I knelt down to put the registration sticker on the Nova. It was a simple act, something I've done every single year for 15 years every time that little sticker would arrive from the DMV. This year, that small act seemed absolutely epic, as six months ago, I didn't even know where she was.
 |
| Victory! |
The Nova, that is. I didn't know where SHE was...not my mother. I've always known my mother's location. Follow along, people.
It's a long story, and has culminated in an increasing feeling of bitterness that I wish I could shed. I have no time for grudges, they give me migraines, and yet this one... I will hold on to this one. It's not an option. Let's just say that the skeptic in me was wrongly quiet as my car was handed over as a project, and it's the one time that the inner skeptic should have spoken the fuck up.
Now that she's back, I've had ample time to roll around in my rust bucket, clackety clacking around Los Angeles just like it was 2002. Not much has changed, actually, she has a crappy 350 (again), a crappy bench seat (again), and a granny shifter (again). It's like I'm 22 (again). Except for...I'm not.
Back then I was attempting to make the Nova faster, better, cooler. I don't remember feeling like I had something to prove, but apparently I did. These days, I'm back to my motto, "fuggoff." Really...she is what she is, which isn't perfect. She's a little aged. She's of the type where people either love her or hate her. Just like...me.
As I cruise along with no music except for the exhaust note and the miscellany of ticks and rattles, I find myself singing to fill the void. It's interesting the songs that I remember, poignantly, with a little spice from Led Zeppelin's 1976 album Presence. "I was burned in the heat of the moment, though it couldn't have been the heat of the day, when I learned how my time had been wasted, and a tear fell as I turned away." Fitting, I believe. It's also Led Zeppelin's most underrated album, but that's neither here nor there.
The Nova is a little older than me, but not by much. The gravity of the years and miles are apparent, and we're both a little...basic. Of the few things that in this lifetime have never let me down, and as a consequence, I never gave up on, she's the one that symbolizes most the fight for self. She's been reinvented a handful of times only to come back to the very same configuration with which she started. She's been mistreated, misused and neglected as well as loved, cherished, and enjoyed. And now, in this original configuration with her rust and dents and dings (character!), she'll be appreciated more than ever.
Because I finally respect and embrace her for what she is, and because I've come a long way since 22, I can fully appreciate that lesson. Even the part about the grudge.
Skeptically Yours.
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