Boy Toy

OK, for those of you who don't already know it: I don't drive. There. I said it. I get a lot of flack from other people about it, but seriously, there are many reasons why I choose not to drive, and honestly-- it's for the safety of everybody involved. Anyway, up until yesterday, Marty and I had three vehicles, two of which were nasty gas-guzzling pollution-mobiles. There was the tiny Honda Civic, for regular city driving and excellent highway mileage; the Nomad (ah, the Nomad), to move our crap from city to city; and the 1964 Dodge Fargo, the pride and joy of Marty's dear little heart.



I liked the Fargo as much as Marty did, with its groovy beaded curtain and its rollered-on paint job. (Hey, at least it was red- my favourite colour!) It had one of those retro crystal doorknobs as the handle on the stick shift, and I must say, we had many an excellent camping trip in it (even that time when the driver side front tire blew out in the middle of nowhere... en route to Radium of all places... because that steep downhill is always such a great place to lose control of a vehicle! Haha- yeah right.)



Well, I'm sad to report that the Fargo had to be given up. Marty sold it yesterday to one of his brother's friends, because there really was no way we could still have three vehicles in Victoria. The Nomad will be put up for sale as well, as soon as it makes it back from Calgary with our remaining crap. Then, we'll be left with nothing but the Honda That Never Dies. (It's true.)



I was disappointed to hear about the Fargo being gone, but I wasn't even close to Marty's level of distress. Seriously, having to sell the Fargo ranked right up there in Marty's List of Sad Life Events-- probably up with the death of loved ones. :( Let's all take a moment of silence, then, and wish the Fargo all the best in its new home.