Ode to Steve
It saddens me to say, with the heaviest of hearts, Steveís life is hanging by a thread. Youíre probably wondering who Steve is. Trusty Steve, to be exact. My travel companion, my majestic stallion, my friend of 10 years. Steve is my car, but sometimes it seems he is much more than just a car to me.
The experiences my blue baby and I have shared together are endless. I learned to drive in this vehicle. In fact, the very first time I drove solo was in this wonderful Saturn. Those 15 minutes to work were the start of my independence and my freedom. As the road opened up before me, so did opportunity and adventure.
The things this car has seen in his 270,000 kilometer life. There have been days where my trusty steed has not been so trusty. Days when Iím sure, if cars could speak, he would have yelled at me to get out and walk instead of putting him through any more torture.
How about the time I was driving to Labrador City and a giant truck barreled by and pelted a good sized rock straight at my hubcap, which launched itself with great force off my tire. Itís fine, I thought, Iíll just turn around and get it. Oh wait, another truck just ran it over.
Maybe the time when my battery was a little less than reliable. I decided to go to lunch with a friend after having my battery jumped one morning last year. Thereís no Tim Hortons in Barrhead, but Iím sure this community is no stranger to the number of individuals who flock faithfully for their coffee or bagel during breakfast, lunch, or supper. That was my first mistake, bringing my half-alive vehicle to a populated area.
Never did it cross my mind the moments my newly jumped battery would be idle as we sat in the drive thru. That was my second mistake.
As we sat waiting for our food, several cars lined up behind us, I heard it. Actually it was more like I didnít hear it, it being the sound of a running engine.
Lucky for me in my state of horror said friend leaped out proclaiming, ďYou steer, Iíll push!Ē
I could tell you about the time when I was 16 and just learning how to drive, when I rear-ended another car in the middle of downtown Dundas. This resulted in a loud slow-clap from a large group of on looking burly bikers, and a very disgruntled father. Donít worry, I was only going about 20 km/hr, but the damage is still visible on the front of my car to this very day.
I havenít even mentioned all of the little quirks I encounter on a daily basis.
I donít have automatic locks in my car. I do however have sticky locks, particularly on the drivers side, that sometimes lock themselves. It is because of this I have locked my keys in my car on numerous occasions.
The engine is loud and powerful and Iím zooming along the highway and thereís a hill and Iím going 47 km/hr and why does my car not have the ability to drive up a hill like a normal vehicle?
He has a sticky gas pedal, leaks oil, and opening my hood to put more oil in is a two person job thanks to a broken latch. What kind of car doesnít have either a tape player or CD player? Donít even get me started on the trunk issues.
The list goes on. But, so does Steve.
Oh the places we have gone together. Quebec, New Brunswick, and all over Nova Scotia. A very long trip to St. Johnís Newfoundland, and an even longer, crazier trip to Labrador City. The journey to Labrador could be a story all in its own. You can only imagine what hours of unpaved twisting road in the middle of nowhere can do to a low-riding Saturn.
Now with this most recent expedition through northern Ontario, Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and Alberta, it seems we have been everywhere together.
It looks like the time has come to take him out back and shoot him. If this really is the end, I hope to drive Steve on his last wheels to B.C. That way, I know he will have truly seen this province from coast to coast.
Please keep Steve in your thoughts while this difficult time grows ever closer.
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