Tribute To A Kick-Ass Car.

An ode to my now deceased car:

Little Honda, you were often under appreciated while I owned you, about that there is no doubt. The indignities included, but were not limited to, rarely being washed, spilled coffee, trash collecting, listening to my rants about poor drivers (ironic, huh?) and being choked with confetti. (Though that last one was not my doing.) On the plus side, I did provide routine maintenance and never saddled you with a corny nickname.

Despite all my transgressions, you never gave me mechanical trouble and, more importantly, you protected me when I impatiently piloted you across oncoming traffic and squarely into the path of the giant Dodge Ram pickup that I didn't see. Afterwards, I told people that you were no match for that big truck. Of course, I was absolutely incorrect on that point; in this instance you were the perfect match. You cushioned me so that the collision and resulting 360 degree spin (Well, 340 degrees, but I know we'd have made 360 if that parked car hadn't gotten in our way.) left me with only some nasty bruises and a bucketload of embarassment.

So, my Honda, here is my final message as you are towed off to junkyard heaven: I'm sorry for being stupid. Thanks for safely ferrying me and my passengers for over 100,000 miles. You served me well.