Postby Raiden no Kishi » Mon Apr 24, 2006 9:18 pm
I used to have a ride . . .
Once upon a time, Raiden's dad found him a beautiful blue 1996 Buick Regal Gran Sport. It had leather seats, cold A/C (a must in FL), a CD player, a healthy 3.8 liter V6 that got excellent fuel economy (30+ on the highway, around 20ish in town), and room for five. They flew up to Indiana (where Raiden's parents grew up) and drove the blue car all the way back to hot, muggy Florida. Raiden did much of his learning to drive in that car (and accumulated most of his 50 required driving hours in it), and it was the car he drove when he got his driver's license. He named it the Blue Bomber in honor of Rockman, one of his favorite video game characters. One day, almost two months ago, Raiden was driving to take the required CAT test to graduate high school. He had made the admittedly foolish decision to listen to his new iPod nano through the earbuds while driving, and, although the sound was low (Raiden has, on more than one occasion, asked his parents to turn THEIR music down), the little black box would be the instrument of the Blue Bomber's undoing. Cruising down the road at a rate within the law, keeping the proper following distance, Raiden noticed the sound suddenly cut out for an unusual amount of time. Forgetting that the song that had just started in that playlist was Queen's We Are the Champions, which started very softly, Raiden looked down for naught but a second or two to check on the iPod. At that moment when his eyes were diverted, the traffic ahead of him came to a rather sudden decrease in speed. Raiden caught the back of the white Toyota approaching in his peripheral vision and jammed on the brakes, but all was lost. The last thought to pass through Raiden's mind before impact was "Oh crap - Dad will kill me." It turns out Raiden's father was hardly upset at all - something that amazes Raiden to this day. The boy sustained light abrasion to his arm and had a bit of arm hair friction-burned off, but the Regal was far worse. The front end was crumpled, the windshield shattered. The white Toyota sustained moderate rear bumper damage, but nothing like Raiden's car. Because of its age, the Blue Bomber had declined so much in value that the insurance company deemed it totaled, because repair costs exceeded its value. Never again would the blue Buick bomber cruise the streets of sunny Florida. Raiden was devastated at the loss of his beloved first car. The keys are still on his desk as a reminder of the car he loved so much. Every week while it still functioned, he would tell his father how much he loved his Blue Bomber. It was all but the perfect car for him. It suited him well. Now it lies in a junkyard, lost but never to be forgotten. Now, Raiden is nigh-paranoid about looking away from the windshield or mirrors. He plays his iPod through the car's stereo and never looks at it to change songs (except at red lights if he wants to switch playlists). He keeps his music low (OK, occasionally he'll turn it up if it's really good) and always watches the cars around him. Someday, he will have a new car to call his own (he has his eyes on a fetching silver Chevy Malibu Maxx SS), but he will never forget that old Regal. Neither has he forgotten the first time he drove it. Nor will he forget the last.
RIP "Blue Bomber" XX/XX/1995 to 03/01/2006
.rai//
[raiden's liveJournal][color="Indigo"]"I believe whatever doesn't kill you simply makes you . . .
stranger."[/color]
Strollin' in at dawn, wakin' up at noon's gonna catch up to me soon
'Just sleep when you're dead' is what I said 'cause I'm jumpin' off the moon