july 16, 2000

goodnight sweet integra

"The tires are the things on your car that make contact with the road" – Phish, “Contact”

This week marked a bittersweet moment when the tow truck from the charity hauled away my beloved 1990 Acura Integra.  I’m glad the proceeds are going to help orphans, but confess that my altruism was tempered by my need to stop the slow but steady stream of dollars the City of Chicago has been extracting from me for the privilege of parking on its streets.  I felt compelled to write a brief memorial to the car I grew up with (and also scan this picture to show you that at one time, it actually was white!)

If my car had a mind, I'll bet it imagined an easy life of Florida sun, trips to the beach, garages, carports, oil changes, and monthly waxings.  When it rolled off the dealership lot in Sarasota, FL on August 25, 1989, the idea  of spending 8 long, cold Chicago winters buried in snow and toughing it out on the mean streets was probably the last fate it ever imagined.  But do any of us really know what lies around the next corner?   Like it must have seemed to my car, i think the idea that we can control and manipulate our destiny is for the most part an illusion (ok, maybe a little deep, but read on...)

A Brief History

At first, I babied my car, careful to permit not even one grain of sand to touch its floormats after a day at the beach.   I drove it many dozens of times between the west coast of Florida, my hometown of Vero Beach, and my erstwhile home in Miami, regularly topping 110 or 115 mph.  Life was good.  I had a streak of being pulled over 9 times in 2 years, getting a warning every time, no tickets.  At one point, I had a crazy idea (I still wish I'd done) to have people sign a guestbook whenever they got in my car for the first time, but backed off the idea due to potential dating complications.

The funniest thing that ever happened in my car...

After Christmas 1990-91, I was returning to Phoenix for my work assignment; I was driving with my Dad in my car to the Ft. Lauderdale airport.  The intent was for me to take off, then for him to drive my car back to my brother's house where I was keeping it while out of town.  So it's like the day after New Year's, packed airport, we quadruple park, I grab my bags, kiss him goodbye, and start walking through the terminal.  Suddenly, I hear a commotion behind me, people murmuring, looking, gasping... I turn around just as I'm in the security line to see my Dad running as fast as he can (he was 70 at the time, now 79, and wearing flip-flops), not happy, waving his arms and yelling at me.  I had no idea what was going on...he approaches me, and I'm like, "what?"  And he said, "You stupid *#@#*&, the keys, the keys, give me the keys, you #&*@*#ing #*#@*@!"  Seems that when I exited the car, I had my car keys clipped to my Phoenix keychain, and had left Dad stranded 40 miles from home at the airport with no keys.  So he's screaming at me, I unclip the key, he grabs it and storms out, narrowly avoiding getting towed.  When I arrived, I called home and Mom said, "You better let him cool off a few days."  When we finally spoke, he did manage a laugh, and said, (he'd never driven my car before), "I pressed every *&#@ing button in that car, the sunroof opened, the wipers came on, the trunk popped, the radio started, but I couldn't turn off those &#)@)_# emergency blinkers! I had to drive the whole way home on I-95 flashing."  And thus was born a family legend.

The least funny thing that ever happenned in my car

The car's life -- and mine -- nearly ended abruptly less than 8 months later.  I was driving north on I-95 near West Palm Beach on a typical sunny-then-suddenly-a-thunderstorm Florida August afternoon on my way up to Tom's birthday party.  Going about 105, I was listening to a tape of the album "Chance" by The Rave-Ups and some line came on like "Jesus is gone" or "doesn't care", and I was slightly offended, and reached to FF to the next song.  As I reached (and as they say, it did all happen so fast) I hit a small puddle in the road and suddenly lost complete control of the car.  I skidded from the far right lane to the far left, then into the median, did a 360 spin, then skidded all the way back to the right shoulder.  The next thing I knew I was in the shoulder, facing forward, car stalled, it and me both without a scratch.  And in the distance, a few cars were approaching.  On what had been a crowded highway, for the duration of my spin, the other traffic had mysteriously disappeared.

Say what you will, but this is really how it really happened.  I drove the rest of the way to Vero Beach at a steady 55mph, and pondered what had happened -- and not happened.  And given that me and the car were unharmed, there really was no evidence that anything did happen.  But I think it would be a real reach to say that this wasn't God saying, "I'm here, Chris. And PS, good call on turning that song off."

Next Stop Illinois

Sometimes God is an obvious and strong presence in one's life, and sometimes He is distant.  Part of it has to do with how much we seek and invite Him in, and truly conform to His will, and part of it is His divine prerogative.  A mere 5 days later, sitting in the Miami Andersen Consulting office unassigned, dying to get out of town, I sat in my cube and prayed to get a good assignment, leave town, go somewhere really cool (I had grown to really dislike South Florida).  During the prayer, our staffing guy came up behind me, grabbed my shoulder, and said, "Festa, go home and pack your bags, you're going to Chicago Monday."  And we all know what that led to.

The Troubles

I didn't send for the car until about a year later, when Tom drove up with me to permanently bring my car to Illinois.  Once there, the protective vanity quickly disappeared.   Driving on ice and snow, parallel parking, parking tickets...were all new to me.  The first big blow came when my then-girlfriend was watching my car for me and (though she never admitted it) I believe she spilled an entire Big Gulp on my dashboard.  This was quickly followed by scrapes, dents, dozens of tickets, several towings, an accident, a couple of smashed windows, leaving the sunroof open through a thunderstorm, and once it was even stolen and deposited 6 blocks away (again unharmed).

The Last Indignity

Working full-time in CA, and really busy, I let my car sit on my street, under the El tracks, from December 10th until March 17th.  I hadn't even been home for a month when I went to jump-start it with my buddy Fred.  The snow had just melted, and there sat my poor car, covered in dirt, El grease, and most disturbingly, several, "ABANDONED VEHICLE" stickers.  In a nutshell, the city was about to impound and crush the car 2 days later.  While we were jumping it, no less than a dozen neighbors passed by, snickering, heckling me, amazed to see the car's rightful owner come forth.  And even 2 garbagemen driving by in their garbage truck pointed and catcalled (honest).  I gave the car a quick wash and then left it with my awesome, fantastic friend Dona, who shepherded it through its final days.  Thank you and God bless you, Dona, you are a true friend!

The End

Finally, on July 12, after having Dona retrieve the Madonna bracelet and Slinky that had been on the stick shift for almost 10 years, plus my beach chair and softball bat, the truck came and towed it away.

I must admit, there's not necessarily a profound lesson to be drawn from this, just that for me it kind of represents how life can take many turns we don't expect, and that our own plans for our lives can be (gracefully) intervened upon by God.  Sometimes we're pointing at a candy bar and He gives us the candy bar, sometimes we point at a hamburger and He gives us prime rib, but sometimes He gives us broccoli or tofu and we don't realize till later that's what was good for us.  OK, I think I started out talking about my car, but now I'm getting hungry.  Hopefully, you still get the picture.

I don't know what my next car will be, and I promise I will be thankful for it, and I won't let it pile to the ceiling with empty Starbucks cups, and I'll even change the oil once in a while.  But I'll always have a place in my heart for the dear old Acura that took me through the 90s.

Some of the people who were in my car (who would have signed the guestbook...)

"the big boys" to and from marvin gardens; uncle fostie, clt, bridges, and lenny from tropicana on the way to play offroad at the mall at lunch; the girl from the rental car counter at the sarasota airport; biggonnnes following tom to the wpb airport in '90; the "festive wise men" on that crazy monday night in pembroke pines; midge; the palm beach bloomingdale's girls; my mom & dad; chuck, tad, holly, and rachel on the way to volleyball; phil & steve; decicco (the only person ever to get a speeding ticket driving my car); chet chit-chat; tanya; maria, dan, and gary the day they had their feud on the way to the beach in '94; goze; kau; shoe boy; fred; the girls dressed as pool balls 1-9 at halloween; catherine; gam and mikey after the bulls win in '98; my brother saving my sister-in-law's life driving her to the emergency room in 1990; screaming at pdb for making fun of my windshield wipers driving to the boat in joliet; jennifer, cheryl, and marianne from work when my muffler blew out on the way to northbrook; my road-trip companion to iowa; and a cast of hundreds more...