by J. A. Buxton
Could any other vehicle be more perfect?
Write a poem or story about a car. What is special about it? What do you hate, like, or wish you could change? (How about gasoline usage?)
You can write about the car you have today, a car you had in the past, or a car of the future you hope to get. Fact or fiction . . .
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Her name is Blue Satyr, and here she is decked out in her Christmas outfit. I did try to take a better picture of her, but she's rather camera shy, and I'm all thumbs with a camera.
I know, I know. She’s a she, while a satyr theoretically in myths is a he. But, come on! How would it look to the neighbors, straitlaced Republicans all, if I drove around in a car called Blue Nymph? I do have a reputation to uphold after all. It took me years to cultivate the name of The Cat Lady, and nymph is way too close to nympho, if you know what I mean.
Blue Satyr’s name is very easy to explain. The Blue half comes from the dusky blue of her beautiful, metal skin. When the salesman drove into sight, my first glimpse of the 2007 Toyota Yaris brought on instant love. Nearby, my 21-year-old Dodge Colt DL seemed to shrink down on his four tires, knowing he no longer held top spot in my heart. Even though he’d tried his very best earlier that week, he’d failed the California DMV smog test, not once but twice.
Before I start crying again about having to trade in Colt, let’s finish the etymology of Blue Satyr’s name. An online friend actually suggested that second half after reading the short story, “My Sweet Satyr,” which became the prologue to my erotic novella, “Seraglio of the Gods.” This name instantly seemed to fit.
After giving my new car this illustrious and slightly naughty name, I did issue her a warning. “As long as you behave, don’t break down, and go easy on the gas, you’ll remain a female.” At this point, being sure to be out of earshot of my old car, I leaned forward and sternly whispered into her front grill, “Otherwise, I’m not amiss to putting you through a sex change as Colt forced me to do.”
It’s been almost a year since I first caught sight of Blue Satyr. She took heed of my friendly or maybe not so friendly warning. We both made all those trips up the steep hill to the dump with ease, and she even tolerated my Neil Diamond CD’s played full blast without too much shaking.
Last December, she originally fought against the indignity of wearing antlers and a big red nose. Once she got used to people grinning when we drove by, I swear the antlers stood up higher and higher each day. She didn’t even complain when a little boy came over in the Safeway parking lot to pat her nose.
Quickly learning my dislike, might I even say fear of air conditioners sucking the breath out of my lungs, she never complained when I insisted on having the window open when the A/C was on. It took months before the heat inside her cabin forced me to try the A/C for the first time. I must admit, though, that cool breeze on my face that sweltering June afternoon did feel good. Shhhh! Don’t let Blue Satyr know I said that, or she’ll get a swelled engine from being right to come equipped with the A/C.
These last few weeks, I’ve become accustomed to people I don’t know coming up to Blue Satyr and giving the small hatchback admiring looks. Questions like “What’s your gas mileage?” or “How much did you pay for the car?” no longer seem impertinent and rather rude coming out of the blue from strangers. I just look over their shoulder at their big car or SUV and smile. Why make them feel bad by telling them around 36 MPG and less than $15,000 including tax and everything else the salesman could think of to throw at me?
Here, in a nutshell written by a somewhat nutty person, is what I’m willing to share about Blue Satyr. I hope your car is as easy on both the eyes and wallet as my little Yaris is.
Microsoft Word count = 631
"The Writer's Cramp" daily winner 07/28/08