rosie
ode to my rrc
You made me work for you, didn’t you?
I’ll never forget when I first saw you; run down after too many years in the sun and sand… but you just had a look to you. I had my pick of the litter that day, but I knew you were the one. The burgundy bomber. Dripping in patina, I suspected it would take time to win you over, clean you up, and bring you home with me. But isn’t that how it is with all the best redheads?
Once I had you, oh were you demanding. Constantly asking for tender, love, and care or upgrades for your elegant yet aging body. Rosie will flirt with you. She flirts with everyone. She may even take you for a little joy ride, but she got jealous too.
Constantly demanding my full attention, you marked your territory. Like the time a fine young thing was riding shotgun and your engine started to violently roar to the point she said, “Rosie is so loud that I can’t even argue with you in here!” Feisty and protective my Rosie.
Rosie was a vibe. Whether at a stop light or a packed beach parking lot, she turned heads. She was graceful in a way that can only be acquired through class and experience. The cache’s cache.
Tenacious yet tender you were… you knew how to play me. Just when I couldn’t stand you anymore and I was ready to quit your tantrums, your profile would gleam in the fading twilight and I would melt in my tracks. Chassis of a goddess. No classic 4x4 stands a chance next to the way your frame sits on four wheels.
I will miss you, Rosie. Your fiery energy and your propensity to break down for no reason whatsoever kept things lively. I usually don’t like the high-maintenance ones, but you were intoxicating. Never a dull moment!
Our ride was brief but bountiful. Sometimes you meet them for a reason, sometimes you meet them for a season.
It is sad to part with such beauty, but you are in good hands now. I hope when I see you again, you give me that look you gave me the first day, and maybe we can take another spin around the block.
Old flames die hard.