Tuesday, April 27, 2004

I knew this was coming, but am still deeply saddened by the passage of the Oldsmobile. My first and only car, regretfully sold before coming to Boston, was an Olds: a 1989 Cutlass Ciera. It was huge and unwieldy to park, but it was made of metal, not plastic, and I loved it. And it wasn't my father's Oldsmobile, either. It was my grandfather's. (That just meant that it had a distinct cherry tobacco smell for the first few months.) There's one just like it parked by Pound Hall and it makes me nostalgic for the old beater. My poor car . . . I hope Uncle Charlie is taking good care of her.
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