I miss my old Geo Storm. It was my second car, following a '57 Ford truck that doubled as a tank. I got it my senior year in high school and was very proud of the silly thing. It was electric blue and sexy as hell. When I got it, I drove over to Kara's place and took her for a ride around her complex. I probably thought I was the shit.
The car, which was a '91, lasted about five years. Shortly after getting it, I bought one of those silly license plate frames that read, "Let's put the fun back in funeral." I remember pulling into a parking lot, blissfully unaware of my surroundings. A older couple, probably in their 60s, approached my car.
"Do you think funerals are funny, asshole?" the husband asked. "Well, yes, they can be quite funny, in the right circumstances," I replied. "Well, I'll have you know…" was about as far as the conversation went on his end. I practically skipped away.
That car made me invincible. Or, at least I thought so at the time. I think we all have those times or objects we associate with our youth. That Geo Storm didn't actually make me cool, I just thought it did. Still, I miss that damned car.