31 October 2010

RIP My Poor Jeep

R.I.P.  My Pretty Pretty Jeep

My pretty pretty Jeep is no more.  I hit a 200 pound deer at fifty-five miles per hour.  As my friend Dave would say, "Do the math, motherfucker!"  The above pic is my Jeep in happier times, this summer, parked at a local cemetary.  I broke my leg last year and after getting the ok to put weight on it, I started walking again, and after I started walking again, I needed a new vehicle to drive.  My Jeep was rescued from my Dad's barn, fixed by my brother who got it started, and then fine tuned by me; the hood release needed to be repaired, the doors were frozen and needed to be unstuck, among other maladies.  After a few weeks I had to replace the starter.  After that it was something else that I can't remember, but I didn't care.  This is definitely the best vehicle I have ever owned.  It has a sunroof, something I have always wanted.  I got lots of sun this summer because it was always open.   It has a 10 cd player which means I have Live Springsteen On Demand.  I've never had anything more sophisticated than a tape player in anything I've ever drove.  The back seat folded down to make room for my bike.  It has electric start for Chrissake!  My Jeep was a way out, it was my freedom and allowed me to live my life with a sense of adventure.  I actually washed and waxed it.  Here it is near my Grandmother's gravesite:


My uncle planted that tree nearby to make his parents' markers easy to find. Here it is post-accident:


I've never been emotionally attached to a vehicle but if my Jeep was a chick, she could really do a number on me.  If you have ever been in a vehicle that hit a deer (or anything else I guess) there is a strange crunching sound.  I thought a window had shattered.  I drive at night all the time, through Mendon Ponds Park and Clover Street in Honeoye Falls, where deer are everywhere.  When I drive home at night I don't get above forty-five.  This damn deer was running full-speed (according to the driver behind us) when he jumped in front of me.  I braked and swerved slightly but it was no use.  I had a sinking feeling since I've owned it that it wasn't going to last long.  I'm sick.  With any luck I can get it repaired although, moron that I am, I didn't have collision insurance on it.  The person that I wish I was could take it apart piece by piece in my Dad's shop, replace parts as I went along, and put it back together good as new.  We'll see what the real me does.  My Mom suggested already that I should start looking for something new (new to me).  To me, that's like suggesting someone should pick up a new kitten on their way to the vet to put the old cat down.  My poor Jeep.  Please send donations in lieu of flowers.