Buh-bye, 'Bu
Today we sold Amy's old Chevy Malibu, affectionately known as "The 'Bu," which officially makes us a one-car family.
My friend Casey once was going to write an essay about our bonds with our cars. Perhaps this will re-inspire that thought.
We put it on Craigslist on Saturday, had a looker Sunday, closed the deal today. (Man, that was fast.) It was a good little car for us. It's what we drove out to Oregon together, loaded up with her stuff.
On Day One I remember pulling out of her parents' driveway, the car packed tight, everyone in or on the verge of tears, before we headed north on I-35. We drove through to Denver, stopping overnight with our friend Ellen shortly after she broke her back. (Only Ellen would flat-out insist upon having house guests with such an injury.) On Day Two we pressed on through Wyoming -- where the cross winds nearly blew us off the road and did sweep the hat off my head at a gas station -- and stayed the night somewhere in Idaho. Day Three brought us down the Columbia River Gorge and to our rather snazzy apartment -- two balconies, count 'em -- in Tigard.
The three-day drive in that car just after she graduated was, I suppose, the official start of our living together. So perhaps it's fitting that we say farewell to the car as we start a new phase: parenthood.
Of course, as my friend Q said, only in the Portland area (read: not back in the Midwest) would a couple be having a kid and downsizing the number of vehicles they have. Maybe so.
Timing's good on another account, though. Last week was full of rain, which tested my bike-commute commitment. I geared up and slogged through. And it wasn't nearly as bad as I imagined it could be. In fact, I kind of liked it.
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