BlogMay 10, 2005 6:42 PM ET

big blue and brown letdown

Today I was thinking about my first car. When my grandfather died, I inherited his car. It was a brown Oldsmobile sedan, and while it wasn't the coolest thing on the block, it wasn't the worst either. I had gotten my license a few weeks before and was really excited to have my own car. If I wanted to go for a cup of coffee at 7am on a Sunday morning, I could. How liberating! I officially got the car on a Friday afternoon. I went out to dinner with my parents that evening before watching a movie and going to sleep. The next morning (Saturday), I excitedly left the house at around 9am to take the car for a drive. I didn't have any specific destination in mind, I just wanted to tool around a bit. So I spent about an hour driving through the sunny suburbs, thankful that I didn't have to borrow my mom's car anymore. When I got home, I went inside and bullshitted around (I can't remember what I was doing). About two hours later my father walked in the door and informed me that the car needed to go to the shop. "Why?!", I anxiously inquired. My father asked that I follow him to the car. There was a huge stain of some sort under the front-end of the car that hadn't been there before. "Ok." I solemnly acquiesced. Three days went by... three grueling spring days. Finally, on Tuesday, the garage contacted my father. My dad casually informed me that the car was a total loss. There was some catastrophic problem with the engine that would cost more to fix than the car was worth. What the fuck!?!?!? That was a shitty day. And for a 16 year-old, it seemed like the end of the world.

Luckily, my mother purchased a new car about two months later and decided to give me her old one. I think she was buying the new car not because she truly needed one, but because she felt sorry for her spoiled son. So I gladly accepted her seven year-old, blue Volvo station wagon. It's wasn't the prettiest thing, but it was a tank. Over the course of the next three years, I beat that car to hell. At any given time you could find cases of beer, empty wine bottles, shotguns, dead animals, etc. in there. It was unbelievable. At some point my friends started signing the the car's interior ceiling too. Within six months, there were like 20 signatures up there. I'm not sure what we were thinking. The vehicle was known in my circles as "big blue." That car was my slutty girlfriend, and I fucked it repeatedly.

What became of that car? I have no idea. When I was nineteen, it was (sadly) traded in for something new. If you're out there, big blue, I miss you and love you. Email me.


Post Comment
Sekio_ 5/10/2005 3:57:33 PM

first post!

Maude_ 5/10/2005 4:38:16 PM

so are you sending me krimpets or what webby?

Jason_ 5/10/2005 5:14:03 PM

so many spelling mistakes.....

alex_ 5/10/2005 7:55:35 PM

i see not one spelling mistake, jerk

d4n_ 5/10/2005 11:06:05 PM

"At any given time you could FINE cases of beer..."

Jason_ 5/10/2005 11:13:22 PM

See what happens when you rely on spellcheck, jerk....

cactus_ 5/11/2005 10:46:40 AM

haha, i enjoyed that.

alex_ 5/11/2005 11:02:35 AM


big blue_ 5/11/2005 11:40:23 AM

its been how long since you tried to contact me?!?! HOW LONG!? and you say you love me. jerk.

big blue_ 5/11/2005 4:54:27 PM

eat shit fck face

caleb_ 5/11/2005 5:30:57 PM

jason, there is not a single spelling mistake

Jason_ 5/11/2005 5:44:54 PM

jason, there is not a single spelling mistake posted by caleb () on 5/11/2005 5:30:57 PM Its been corrected. I really dont care, I was just joking around.

wigslam_ 5/11/2005 9:48:02 PM

you're pretty good at that whole tooling around thing

DEADFORWEEKS_ 5/18/2005 8:01:15 AM

I'm sure your Big Blue misses you profoundly as well too, but it's assuring to inform you that your ex-old piece of shit is still safe and productive. In fact, evidence can be derived from this very source:

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