It's Christmas and it's snowing up in Amherst, Massachusetts. The Blogger (pronounced bluh-ZHER) family is having their holiday get-together when Ulysses David is out in the driveway and garage wandering through his dad's collection of random cars. Horatio Bradley comes out into the softly falling afternoon flurries to see what his son is up to.
Ulysses: "So dad -- I've been checking out that maroon '92 LS400 that you've kind of had parked way at the back of the blog for a while now. I know that you're planning on getting rid of it in the next few months, and I haven't ever had one like that so I was hoping that, well, y'know..."
Horatio: "Get to the point, son."
Ulysses: Well... do you think that maybe that one could be mine?
HB: "Oh, you mean that one over there with the maroon exterior, and the inside sorta smells like seafood? You really want to drive that thing around? You do realize that if we let you crash this thing like your sister did with UCF, you're going to get really pissed when you find out how expensive the insurance was for it the hard way, right?"
UD: "Oh, come on dad. That was a totally different scenario. They lied on her insurance application and there was a hole in the gas line! What was she supposed to do?!?!?. Seriously though, I'm sure I won't mind the seafood smell, it wasn't that bad down in Cancun last ye---- ummm, yeah. But I mean how hard could it be to drive? All anyone expects it to do is keep going forwards, and I'll probably just be driving back and forth to Gillette Stadium anyways."
HB: "Down in wh- you know what, never mind. Look, I know it has that new-old feel to it. Call me emotional over a car that I purchased as something that was sorta new-old, but it's been an emotional rollercoaster for me keeping this thing around. I know you don't see me driving it out in public as much as I did over the summer... Have I ever even told you about the problems that I've had with it lately?"
UD: "Ummm... what problems? It just sits there! Thas why I'm tryna git me summadat.... *AHEM* That's why I want to have that as mine, get it back in use. Why, what happened?"
HB: "Well, I know you're not afraid of rolling up your sleeves and trying to fix any problems that might come up with it (don't make me regret saying that), but you absolutely MUST stay committed to it for the damn thing to even stay drivable.
When I first stumbled upon the thing in an ad on Craigslist (actually, your Uncle Danny is the one that pointed it out to me. Don't ever take advice from Uncle Danny or any Boston College grad for that matter), it seemed like it'd be a cheap investment, but with enough work I could keep it running.
Went to the seller's house to check it out. Aside from the... chowder stains in the back seat (pretty sure that's what they were), the thing ran pretty smoothly around the neighborhood. I figured that it'd take a few years to fix up and be just as good as anything else that we have to drive around here, so I bought it and, four years later, I'm sort of kicking myself over it."
UD: "I don't get why you're kicking yourself dad, that interior is brand new and i can't wait to store all my gear in there. It isn't like you need it to look amazing on the outside, I've already been single for like FOUR MONTHS and that isn't changing any time soon."
HB:"Funny how those were the exact same words I said nine months before you were born. But in any case, you've gotta make it look nice on the outside, otherwise nobody's going to want to ride with you. Driving solo with no crew to bang with isn't as fun as you think it is.
Also, the guy warned me about this and tried to fix it, but you're sort of stuck with this -- there's a Natalie Cole mix CD that's been stuck and won't come out for whatever reason. Also, all of the buttons for the radio stopped being functional too, so I hope you're ready for hours and hours of "This Will Be" and "Unforgettable" on any of your drives. You're certain that you still want that damned thing?"
UD: "LOOK I --- wait, what the hell do you know about crews and bang--- ugh. I don't even want to know. GOD, NO. STOP THROWING UP GANG SIGNS!.... *sigh* whatever.
Look, I'll just rip the stereo out and replace it with a new one or whatevs, and then I can get a whole bunch of metallic red Krylon paint from my buddy Tim at WalMart. That should be good enough to last a few years and then I can just give it back to you.
HB: "Not into crew bangs? Oh, you probably thought I was referencing having an orgy. Trust me son, that's not the case; not sure where you get these sick perverted thoughts but that's not where the seafood smell comes from.
Hmm, polishing up the other cars... That includes the parking lot-theme green-and-white-and-grey car that hasn't been sexy-lookin' since the late 80's? That thing badly needs a tune-up."
UD: "Alright dad you drive a hard bargain. How about I take the Burgundy Beast with me -- yes I named it already, shut up -- and I get it back in working order. Then once it is back to looking new-old and maybe or maybe doesn't have a Hoobastank CD stuck in it instead maybe I can give it back to you and have something else for graduation?"
HB: "Sorry kiddo, once it's off my hands, it's off my hands. If I do grant you ole Molna-... er, Burgundy Beast... If you get this fixer-upper, you can't say that I didn't warn you about any of its downsides. I know you feel like you're all grown up and independent now, but B.B. is going to need a lot of TLC and even more patience.
The hooptie might not run the way you want it to, but it's still a lovable bastard. Hmm...when I put it that way, I could see this working out for ya."
UD: *rolls eyes* "Yeah whatever. Thanks dad. I guess."
HB: "Don't forget, you still have to pick up the dog poop in the back yard before you think about heading out"
UD: *SLAMS DOOR*