In Memory of Rosie
Back in my single days, I was living in Phoenix Arizona, working as VP of Finance of a nutrition company, and driving Rosie, my beautiful red convertible camaro Z28...
there she is... hiding behind those chickies dressed up for a night on the town.
I have to tell you about one in particular. One morning I was driving to the gym before work. I had to be at work at seven which meant I had to be up at the crack of REM to get in a half hour run, a shower and still make it to work on time. Translation: nobody out on the roads yet.
Being Phoenix, the weather was warm even before the sun comes up, so the top was down and I was likely rocking out to Third Day or Zoey Girl. (Zoey Girl was great driving music and what I was listening to when I did the 1/4 mile drag strip at the Firebird Raceway in 13.8 seconds at 102 mph, my best time ever as I was banned from the track after that run... something about some silly rules requiring a roll bar on convertibles running the track in less than 14 seconds... but I digress)
I was sitting at a red light, which was really one of my favorite things with Rosie, because a red light means that I get to GO when it turns green. :) And I did. I always took off like a horse released from the gate at the race track...but I did carefully monitor my speed and hit the cruise control when I reached the speed limit, which was 40mph on this particular road. It was enough to make the car payments, insurance payments, and registration payments without adding speeding tickets to the mix.
Anyway, I had taken off and I noticed that there were headlights approaching rapidly from behind me. Turns out it was a cop, but I wasn't worried because I hadn't squealed my tires or gone over the speed limit, so I just ignored him. The cop had come up right behind me, then pulled into the right lane and came alongside Rosie. The police intercom clicks on and I am sitting there in that split second before he speaks wondering just what is going on, then the officer says, "Wanna race?" I was stunned. He shoots me a big smile and peals out.
And, no, I didn't race him!
Another great memory was Christmas of 2002. I was hanging with a great group of friends that we called "my people" as in,
"I will give them a heart to know me, that I am the LORD. They will be my people, and I will be their God, for they will return to me with all their heart." - Jeremiah 24:7
My people were going to be celebrating Christmas over at Steve's house, a popular hangout spot for us. I had arrived early in the day to help with the cooking, so I was there when Keith called with his unfortunate discovery. He had a flat tire. I volunteered to go pick him and his brother up and headed out in Rosie to do so. When I got there, Keith asked for a present from me - he said it would make his Christmas to drive Rosie back to Steve's house. No problem! I climbed in the back seat and let the men take the front seats. I will never forget that ride back! It was a beautiful sunny day, not a cloud in the sky, 70 degrees, top down, and I swear Keith drove 70 mph between stoplights! But I didn't care... I wouldn't be the one getting a ticket, so I just got to enjoy the ride. :)
Rosie eventually got traded in for the family sedan, and then the family sedan was traded in for the family minivan. But I will never trade in the memories of good times with Rosie.
Posted in: camaro, Memory Lane on Wednesday, March 17, 2010 at at 4:00 AM
