Thursday, March 11, 2021

Just going for a drive in the Bronco. It’s the first warm day!

Hoodie. Sunglasses. Crocs. No socks.

Will it start? It’s been sitting in the garage since the fall. I forgot to have Christian charge the battery. It took a few tries but I got it going. I let it warm up and backed out.

In the sunlight, I saw the dust. Yikes. Okay, Dad, I know this looks bad, but I don’t have time to wash it. I know you understand. Make sure I don’t break down please. It makes me nervous not to have you here checking this old car out for me.

So what’s this pile of fuzzy stuff in the garage? Was there a mouse nest in the exhaust from the winter? Did I just blow it out? Ew.

The tires look good, the engine looks fine, there’s some gas in the tank. Let’s go.

The radio takes a cassette, but I have an adaptor that I can play music from my phone. Let’s see, what playlist?

Sweet Child of Mine, Guns and Roses.

Pull out on Silver Street. Thomas is playing basketball. Of course I have to honk like 10 times as I drive away. He just shakes his head.

Take a left on Maxwell Road. Ohhh yea, those brakes need some attention. Pump, pump, pump.

First stop light. Hey, the guy in the truck next to me rolls his window down and says Sweet car. Thanks, I say.

Send Me On My Way, Rusted Root.

Gas station. Ten gallon gas tank, and I don’t get very far with his old engine. Guy at the next gas pump, Hey sweet Bronco. Does that have a 302 in it? Yes it does, I say. No, I don’t drive it in the winter.

Off to Wendy’s drive thru for a fountain soda. Thumbs up from a guy that passes by as I’m pulling out.

Into the Mystic, Van Morrison.

A loop around Palmer, and into Ludlow. Open roads and woods and trees and water. Sun. Red Bridge Dam.

Ludlow has more traffic. A honk and a thumbs up from a truck going the opposite way.

Hunger Strike, Temple of the Dog.

Almost home now. Hoodie hood down, hair loose. Fresh, warm air. Blue sky.

Home. It looks like I’ve been gone about an hour.

It’s never just a drive.

Thanks, Dad.

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