I thought about changing the name of this Blog to reflect those feelings about having gotten rid of the ole' '55 Chevy Bel Air - blue. Well, okay, not really that obsessive-compulsive, but blue none the less. I miss the old girl, but I can live without her.
What doesn't help is that I realize that whenever we travel, wherever we go, everyplace we pass, I'm watching. Every field, barn, or old car sitting in the back yard I examine, hoping to spot that once-in-a-lifetime signal of redemption. So far, no luck. I'm not sure it would really do any good if I did happen to stumble upon a ''55 Chevy sitting in a front yard with a 'For Sale' sign on it. I probably couldn't afford it - everyone seems to think everything they own is the most valuable asset in the world - maybe we can thank eBay and others for that.
Same old site. Same old posts.
'55 Chevy Bel Air's.
NOS.
I woke up one morning and went to to the computer to check the e-mail. There, in the old, discarded remnants of unread spam and soon-to-be-deleted messages, was "Find your '55 Chevy Here!" - a message from OldCarTrader. I had visited their site often and once even tried to contact one of their advertisers.
As I sat and looked at that message ... "Find you '55 Chevy Here!" ... a sudden realization hit me. I didn't care. The was no ache in the pit of my stomach thinking about it. I have had that ache ever since I was a shifter for Big George. It had gotten worse ever since I sold my '55 years ago and it was odd not feeling that fire. But I didn't. It was gone.
My wife doesn't believe it. I've had it too long.
But gone it is. No matter how hard I try to feel it, it' s not there. Not now. And maybe never again.
Damn.
