As of this month
my car is officially
paid off.

A six year loan
on my first brand new car.
It’s finally, really
mine.

Kind of a big deal
seeing as how my
previous cars have been
anything but
new.

My first car was a
1964 Dodge.

Sounds much cooler
than it was.

Worked all summer
at the music store
it the Oak Court Mall.
Slinging CDs,
soft porn,
and cassette tape singles.
In a really ugly
polo shirt.

Saved my dollars,
and my dad did too.

Bought her from a family friend.
No one could tell if she was
green or blue.
Mystery paint felt like
scales.
Long and mean
like a gator.
I named her Allie.

Before we got her
up and running.
I sat still with my morning coffee
in the back seat waiting.
Memphis mosquitos
joined me through the
rear windows that actually
rolled all the way down.

The breaks never fully worked.
Took two feet
to slow me down.
And the gas pedal.
It nearly fell through to the street.
So my dad built me a new one
out of wood.

Cops pulled me over
in that thing
more times than I care to remember.

Once for blowing bubbles
out of the window
while driving with friends.
Cutest traffic violation ever.

Worst time was in Overton Park.
Early one morning,
heading towards the coffee shop.
Noticed a helicopter overhead
curiously taking my same path.

Shortcut through the park.
Red light at Poplar.
Pointed towards the Hi-Tone.

Suddenly surrounded by
a handful of police cars,
motorcycles,
and the chopper
still hovering above.

Frantic yelling instructed me to
put my hands up
as they slung open my car door.
Strangers riffling
through the notebooks and clothes
in the floorboard.

Turns out,
my car matched the description
of the getaway car.
From a bank robbery.

Realizing I could do no harm.
(not that kind anyway)
They left.
Left my doors still open,
tears in my eyes,
and my hands still in the air.
And really left me needing that
morning coffee.

Another incident,
no cops were there.
But they could have been.
Allie and I accidentally
ran over my good friend.
Twice.
But she’s okay.

Many more memories were made,
Some exciting.
(finding strange sleeping dogs inside)
Some romantic.
(the drive-in on Summer Ave)
Some boring as hell.
(downtown car inspection)

But it’s the physical detail I
remember the most.

Bench seat up front.
Useless seat belts,
just lap decorations.
And an oil leak that made me
look real tough
every three or four days.
Popping the hood &
checking it often.

My favorite was the
gear-changing-thing
on the dash.
Like driving a space-ship.
Pushing buttons and
pulling levers
just to make it go.

Of course the radio
was only AM.
But mostly that was
just perfect.

I abandoned Allie
in 2000 when I moved to
Washington D.C.
Lonely, rusting under a carport
in Southaven, Mississippi.
She sat until sold for
her pretty parts.

My second car was a
1981 El Camino.
And that is another story.
For another day.