<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d9440195\x26blogName\x3dThe+Doc\x27s+Perspective\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dSILVER\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://dadoc.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://dadoc.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d4041147616640362446', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Eulogy For A Faithful Friend

Well the word came in today.

My car needs a new transmission. And I cannot afford to get it a new one.

It is time for a newer model to take her place. But who can fill those shoes (or tires?)

She's sitting parked in front of my house now, awaiting for her last voyage. She may end up in my yard along with all the other decomissioned vehicles my father refuses to get rid of. She may end up as a trade-in. I don't know.

I do know I will miss her. She has served me well and I will never forget her loyal service to me. The good times that she enabled me to have.

From the beaches on the South Shore of Long Island, to the beaches on the West Coast of Florida, Elise was always there. On freezing cold days, she delivered me safely from work to home. She carried my equipment to Last Call on a weekly basis, when there was no other means of transportation. No matter where I had to go, or who had to go there, she was there.

No other vehicle will ever be as endearing as she was. With her crooked headlights, and missing bumper, she was always a welcome sight in time of need.

Her missing door handles reminded me to be a gentlemen for the ladies that rode in the front passenger seat. Her stubborn windows were always a nice conversation starter.

She was the essence of the word hooptie. No car will ever be as unique as her.

But life goes on and her spirit will carry on into the next car.

I will miss you.

Rest In Peace.

Oh, and I will be taking my system out of that bitch so don't no body get any ideas.

Doc Out.





Comments



Post a Comment

© 2005 The Doc's Perspective, David Barbosa. Powered by Blogger.