Monday, April 6, 2009

Wreckage

My father drove in from Red Deer yesterday with his family. Despite the less-than-a-day's notice, I agreed to meet up with them for lunch at the diner just down the street. As usual, it was an awkward and ridiculous experience. If anyone who really knows and loves me paid witness to the ordeal, they would not recognize me. Except for in the way I interact with my little half-brother. He - well, you're going to find out eventually so I may as well just tell you his name now - Earl (I voted against it, people, I swear) is a pretty great kid. Here is a picture of him so you can see how much better his share of our father's genes is:
The two of us had a lot of fun, nudging eachother with our feet under the table while pretending it wasn't us, and threatening an abundance of tickles. And later, when we were walking outside, we kept tickling eachother and chasing eachother around. Much giggling ensued. It was awesome. According to our dad, he woke up from his in-car nap on the drive and the first thing he asked was "Did I miss my sister!?" Which, obviously, is pretty adorable. I just wish I could see him on his own, without the 'rents along for the ride. Every time I asked Earl a question his mom would answer, not understanding that I was trying to engage him and build a repoire with him. Argh. I get to see the kid maybe once every 6 months - there's only so much time I have to work on getting him to at least remember my existence an hour after we part. Sure, our dad can talk about me, but I want him to really know who I am.

Anyways, after lunch my dad needed to make a pit-stop somewhere, so I figured I'd go along for the ride. He had said a couple of times where he needed to go, but I kept missing it and after asking him to repeat himself once I didn't want to bother with doing it again. So, basically I had way to prepare for we were going to end up: a friggin' car part place! I could have waited in the van with Earl and his mom, but, meh, I'm always up for a field trip and I'd never been to a place like THIS before.

So, my dad paid the dollar admission for each of us and in return we got a big green stamp on our right hands. My first impression? Wow, there's a lot of hairy people here. And, mmm, smells like onions!!! Yum! Then we walked through in to what was one of the most depressing things I've ever seen - a graveyard full of cannibalized cars. I'm sorry - it was creepy! AND muddy. Fortunately, there were a lot of photographic opportunities, so while my dad searched for the rear left-hand window of a Ford something-or-other, I snapped picture after picture and ruminated on all the available metaphors that the place provided me. Here are a few of my favourites:

This was what was on the right of us as we came into the lot. It looked quite a bit drier than where we ended up trudging through. Boo urns.

My favourite part of the outing: my dad had turned down one of the side lanes and disappeared in between rows of damaged and decrepit vehicles and I couldn't figure out which direction he had gone in, so I got a little nervous. After calling out for him a couple of times without getting a response (heh, that pretty much defines our entire relationship!) I turned down some random aisle and spotted this truck. Placed as if by a salesman under the open hood and in plain view, as if waiting just for me, was a cassette of Boyz II Men's 'II', the first CD I ever owned!!! AND, one that I had just been talking to my friend Lisa about when we met for dinner on Friday night. I will not tell you the circumstances of that conversation because it is too embarassing. Just trust me... the coincidence was simply too awesome, and made me laugh so hard I'm pretty sure the wrench-holding hobo that peered out from inside a van he was rummaging around in nearby thought I was crazy. Since I wasn't sure how things worked regarding non-car-part stuff, I totally just shoved the tape in my bag. Yay! A souvenir!

Um... this picture is of a pile of tires. What more can I say? I wonder if tires are like trees... you know, if you can tell the age of them by counting the rings (or lack thereof).


I believe this is what they call 'the engine.' Not being a driver, there aren't too many items in this tangle of metal that I can identify. I think maybe the yellow thing might be where the windshield wiper fluid goes... and the silver thing in the middle with the hole in it might be where the oil goes. Beyond that... ??? Sometimes I wish I was a car mechanic because then at least I'd always have a job!!! And, I don't mind getting dirty ;) But, then again, I'd have to learn about cars. Hmm.

I took this picture because these wires were pretty much the only shock of colour in the entire area. The unexpected rainbow lightened my heart a little. And, made me think of someone special, ironically. Yay rainbows!


Okay, so there were TWO bits of colour in our surroundings. I saw this from a mile away and totally cracked up. Thank heavens for people who have fun with their jobs. At least, I think it was the handy-work of someone that worked there, since a lot of the vehicles had spray painted numbers and such on their sides. Maybe it was the work of vandals? Who knows. Still pretty funny.

That might be my dad down there. Not entirely sure. I like how the mud is so shiny in this picture. Yes, I know I keep talking about the mud, but seriously! There was so much of it! Good think I'm not a prancing sissy or I would have been very, very unhappy. Some of the mud in the 'road' areas inside the compound looked like it had been whipped with an electric beater, like you could mix in some chocolate chunks and bake a cake with it. Blech. I would SO not buy that cake. Or eat it. Even if it was free.

4 comments:

  1. Girl on the CornerApril 6, 2009 at 9:26 PM

    My dad always took me to places like that when I drove my old car. I felt bad if he went alone to get stuff for me only then to have the "honour" of installing it in my car.
    Good times.
    If that's the same place I've been to, you probably noticed the hot dogs they sell and the greasy, blackened, unwashed hands of the mechanics scarfing them down. Yum.

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  2. My dad always took me to Beaver Lumber in Fort Saskatchewan. For no reason at all that I can think of. Glad you had a good day. We missed you.

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  3. Heh...Does the Boyz 2 Men cassette even work?

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