R.I.P.

My little red honda (1991-2008), only 17 years old, met her match in a sideswipe and an insurance assessment last week. Surviving drivers include: RPD, HDL, a crazy, catalytic-converter-detaching ex-priest, and myself. Memorials may be sent in lieu of flowers to Barack Obama's campaign. The picture above was taken in her last days, on one of her many trips following the Platte river from North Platte to Lincoln, Nebraska. She wasn't a girl who made life easy for anyone, yet everyone who knew her was glad s/he did. Let it be said that my little red honda drove like a race car, sounded like one, and, in the end, died like one. She did nothing without panache. Goodbye, girlfriend. I'll miss you.

. . .