Wheels and Memories on the Road
I didn’t fully realize it at the time, but I lost part of my freedom last November when I crashed my 1988 Baby Blazer on a slick mountain road.
I've always enjoyed driving and the independence it gives me. My mother, mother in law and one of my sisters in law have never drove, relying instead on their husbands. That's something that would have driven me (!) insane.
Thankfully, I wasn’t hurt in the crash and the motor was not damaged, but the extensive damage to the exterior left me without wheels.
I didn’t know at the time I would be without my own wheels — something I had not experienced since I was 16 – for 9 full months.
Driving my Cares Away
Yesterday, I had to complete yet another very unpleasant task at the bank.
I’ve learned these past 18 months since Dale’s very unexpected lay-off from the good job from which we expected he would eventually retire — that there is something worse than paying bills — not being able to pay them.
Yet, when I hopped in my 1988 “Baby Blazer” and drove off into the sunny but cool day, my cares melted away.
We Americans have long had a love affair with our cars, and I'm no different. When I was a younger woman, I wanted, more than anything, a "Baby Blazer," those smaller Blazers Chevrolet used to make.
In 1988, we bit the bullet and for nearly $400 a month for 4 years, which was a lot of money for these 20-something newly weds, I got one.
She was my first and only automobile love.
