Monday, October 20, 2008

Mini the Van

(1992 Dodge Caravan--Not the actual Skidmore mini, but it will do)

My earliest memories of car rides include a white mini van with gray interior.  However, my mom's life really started when she traded in the white and gray mini for a white and gold wonder wagon.  That's right.  The egg shell white paint of our new van was beautifully accented with gold hubcaps and a matching gold pin stripe.  Shelby and I would frequently leave school and walk half way up the big hill to meet our pimped out ride and it's owner (my mom).  We never missed our ride because there was a small rock stuck in the front right tire that would announce the coming of the skidmore mini.....CLACK..CLACK..CLACK.......just in case we couldn't spot the gleam off of the hubcaps.

The white and gold goodness on wheels carted us around for many years, only to meet a tragic end.  It happened in the parking lot of my dad's office.  Shelby was singing a tune with great gusto, and as part of her grand finale, she grabbed the handle of mini and passionately slid her door open.....right off the track...and onto the ground.  I remember looking at Shelby with disbelief, but this was quickly followed by a solid minute of laughter.  Mini was injured and we needed to act quickly.  Luckily, my mom had a couple of bungee chords in the trunk, which she skillfully used to secure mini's door to the middle bucket seat.  Mom was bound and determined to save determined that she ordered Shelby and I to sit in the bucket seat DIRECTLY NEXT TO the hanging door.  We were instructed to HOLD ON  to the door TIGHT as we puttered down the highway at a painfully low speed.  Never mind the fact that a speed bump would have resulted in our certain death.  We were committed to our hooptie.

Mini was repaired, but, sadly, the parking lot incident was the beginning of the end.  Here's to you mini.  Thank you for serving us in style for so many years.