I hate to say it, but my sources have informed me that my college car ("The Baron", "the Dusty Rose", "Mauve Thunder", and recently "La Baroness") has been sentenced to death. She was a hell of a car, and she will be missed.
Originally owned by Lucille Whitmer (my grandmother), Mauve Thunder spent her early years leading a relatively comfortable life in Pennsylvania, mostly in a garage. Offering Pennsylvanians a glimpse into what the future might hold, her digital speedometer was that rare opportunity to see tomorrow without sacrificing the ability to know how fast you were going today. MT's fortunes changed in a major way in 1995 when Lucille gave her one final filling (unleaded 87) and kissed her goodbye as I turned her north for a 2 year stint at Cornell University.
Those 2 years were not good to her. Ithaca is a long way from a heated garage, and the conditions in my fraternity driveway took a toll on this delicate beauty. My wife kicked in her grill. One of her friends kicked in her door. She was crashed needlessly and without remorse by a friend's girlfriend and Brian Keller (perhaps offering a glimpse into what fate had in store for her). Dan Jacobson kicked in her radio during an overcrowded trip to town. Her window was cracked by a passenger seat dancer coming home from a round of golf (needless to say, P-Funk was never allowed again inside MT). Her windshield wipers stopped working, but only when it was raining.
But through it all, did she ever complain? Was there ever a time when she refused to go where told? Never.
After college, I gave her to my folks and she spent stints working for my Dad and my sister. She particularly enjoyed working for my Dad, as it offered her a quick daily workout, and then the ability to sit atop Cornell's hill and gaze down at her former home, looking forward to her seemingly nearing retirement.
But it was not to be. She was "sold" to one of April's friends for $20 and a promise to have her inspected in 2001. Catherine must have done something right, because she was able to stave off MT's retirement until she was well into areas of the Blue Book that few have ever navigated. To be honest, I hadn't thought of her much recently...until I got the following email this afternoon from my mother:
Hi Alex -- Thought you'd enjoy this update on the good ol' Le Baron. Love, MomTo: Catherine
From: "A. Bradford
Subject: La Baroness
Cc: Alan Raymond Collmer
Candace Whitmer CollmerCatherine, I just want to update you about your 'ole 1986 Chrysler LeBaron.
I don't know if you remember or not, but Mike Parkhurst and I renamed the car, La Baroness. After you used it for a couple of years I sold La Baroness to the parts manager at Pritchard Dodge who fixed it up for his granddaughter to commute back and forth to TC3. Well, his granddaughter graduated with honors this year and is transferring to someplace in Rochester and La Baroness is now being retired after all the dashlights and speedometer failed and the granddaughter got a speeding ticket. Jerry thought $150 for a used dashboard light package was too large an investment to make in the 'ole beauty.
Now, the last glorious chapter: La Baroness will be part of the Trumansburg Fair later this month. Some Ithaca City police officers bought her from Jerry and she'll be in the final event of the Trumansburg Fair on Sunday, August 29, at 5 PM ---- the Demolition Derby!
I thought you ought to be informed of her impending, final demise!
Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.
Love Ya',
Dad
Part of me feels like this is my opportunity to start one of those internet petitions and swoop into the T-burg fair at the last minute with 4,975,857,893 signatures from all over the world just in time to keep Big Foot off of her well worn bumper. But then, the more I think about it, I'm starting to realize that this seems like a fitting end, and I think that it's how La Baroness would like to go. She certainly lived a full life, she served every one of us with a quite pride, and she always loved being in the center of the action.
Thanks for the good years Mauve Thunder.
First of all, it was the cupholder, not the radio. Second of all, whoever kicked in the radio did you a favor, because the only CD that you ever played in that car was "Jewel: Pieces of You," with great lyrics like these ones from the song "Daddy":
Sometimes I sleep past noon, Daddy
Drink lots of black coffee and I smoke like a chimney.
Yes, I left the refrigerator door half open, Daddy.
What's that say about me?
Sometimes I want to rip out your throat, Daddy
For all those things you said that were mean.
Gonna make you just as vulnerable as I was, Daddy
What's that say about me?
Sometimes I want to bash in your teeth, Daddy.
Gonna use your tongue as a stamp
Gonna rip your heart out the way you did mine, Daddy
Go ahead and psycho-analyze that.
In the case of getting rid of that car, you're cutting off the face (the car) to spite the nose (the radio), and you're doing every one a great service.
Posted by: Dan Jacobson | Tuesday, August 10, 2004 at 03:31 PM
I think I remember Mauve Thunder. Even if I don't, I just poured some Penzoil High Mileage 10W-30 onto the street before I took a sip. I'll miss her for what she gave you Collmdaddy. She gave you a chance to get out... and you did it... she'd be proud.
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