The death of ol' Blue

Yesterday was one of those days that you really wish you didn't have to go into work and could be on the water. The weather was absolutely awesome. At lunch time I had to go to the pharmacy for a prescription, and my car was sweltering hot. Made me think it was June and not February. I think it got up to the seventies with just a few wandering clouds. Alas I had to work until 8:30pm and by then the sun would be down and the beauty of the day would have been gone. I could never have predicted just how true this would be. After spending ten hours in the pain clinic listening to a premadonna surgeon flip his patients off behind their backs, I recieved a call from Julia. I sent it to voice mail because I was busy working, but then she called again just a few minutes later. This isn't a good sign. I answered the second call to find out that Julia had been in an auto accident. She had wrecked ol' Blue. Blue is a 1993 Oldsmobile Cutlass Sierra, that is leaking fluids from every seal. Yes this is the one and only Blue that decided to spit it's muffler last week. The same Blue that shot break fluid all over interstate 95 last year while Julia was trying to go through the toll booths in New Hampshire. Talk about a fun ride, driving down the freeway with no breaks. I can only imagine the things that are going through Julia's mind right now. I'll bet she thinks I'm trying to kill her. Or maybe Blue should be named Christine. Well anyway, Julia was fine and Blue is ok, just missing a rear bumper and right rear tail light. Hmmm almost makes me wish the damn thing would just put out one last gasp and expire. Then again shitty cars don't die, they go on and on in body and in the stories we tell about them.