Before we begin, I want to give a major shout out to Holly Starley as her endearing essays about her adventures with Ruby Van Jangles inspired this piece.
This piece is so lived in. There’s always one more story to recount, one more close call to spotlight, one more trip made possible. I loved that—I read this as though you were holding onto her anew as you conjured her back to life temporarily in words. Thirteen years is a long time for even the hardiest cat to run, but it’s also a long chunk of life full of growth and change and experience. This made me feel happy, but also a tad wistful.
The final photo sealed the deal. I have photos of our family’s cars on those fateful days when they got towed away. I teared up when they took my first car, but also when they took my mom’s that I learned to drive in…which looks incredibly similar to your car. Seeing the photos at the end and you alongside it felt like proof that feeling connection like that is a good thing.
You’ve gifted a beautiful story about your car, as well as thoughts about stories from my family’s now. This was a wonderful start to my day. Cheers to you and the old girl centering this piece.
Ohh man, there were so many more stories. I cut so many out just so that the piece didn’t run on indefinitely. In the end I decided to do as you mentioned and try to cover the various chunks of my life that the old girl featured in.
It’s a funny thing, how attached we can get to seemingly empty inanimate objects — to me that car had a soul and a personality, and I have no doubt the cars that featured in your life took on similar qualities.
I’m also glad you appreciated the photos, I wanted to include them as I suspect I’ll return to this piece from time to time for myself.
Thanks Michael, as always, your thoughts and readership add so much to my experience :)
It’s a quirky thing to see machinery as an extension of ourselves, but also a generous, very human thing. If they do have a soul or personality, it’s almost certainly a sliver from part of our own. In any case, this was a wonderful read.
Awesome Michael!!! So many bursting-with-life moments you created with your old girl. As always, there is a vibrant sense of immediacy that brings us along with you - every step of the way. Sometimes, we are right there by your side, and other times we are dragging behind! Beat up and dirt covered, but those are the moments in the piece that are the most satisfying, the most fun! It is decades beyond my acting out, stoner years, yet I too still have a visceral reaction when a cop gets too close. And I’m a law abiding grow up, for G-ds sake! It’s a kind of PTSD- and I felt that here- which is the best compliment I can think of! And that photo, of your younger self is also awesome. Not just the long hair but the look in your eyes- that twinkle - that I felt in my youth. A combination of “f- you” and “I just want to be heard”. Well, that’s I how felt in my years of discontent. Wow, so much of my past came back to life through your story. There you have it! So much has been triggered 😂 BUT that is the Best compliment I can think of.
Wow! Thank you Andrea! They really were some of the absolute best compliments! I’m flattered. And so very happy that my piece could evoke so many memories and feelings in you.
I love what you said about the twinkle in the eyes of youth. I certainly felt a lot of the ways you said you felt “f you” and “I just wanna be heard” for sure. Also, a deep desire for a type of freedom and adventure. Ahh how good my twenties were. And ahhh how good this comment was. Thanks again, Andrea your comments always make me smile :)
Hi Michael, what a gorgeous love letter disguised as a road story. You let the Old Girl carry not just gear and grit, but whole eras of becoming: freedom, foolishness, tenderness, survival. By the end, she feels less like a car than a faithful witness to a life in motion. Beautiful work.
Ohhh that’s such a great way to put it, Camilla — “less like a car than a faithful witness to a life in motion.” I may have to rewrite the whole piece just so I can squeeze that line in there. hehehe.
But seriously, thank you. I’m so glad you liked it and I really value your feedback. :)
Awww, what a fun story…and fun ride! I love the personality you infused into her. Almost thought she was a metaphor for a girlfriend early on but that’s just my weird brain.
But then again…who says a hunk of metal can’t be a soul mate?
“I could’ve stared into that infinite nowhere forever. I don’t know what I was looking for out there. But whatever it was, you helped with that search.”
The old girl had quite the personality, so I’m really happy that came across.
Haha how interesting… nope, no girlfriend metaphor. Just a boy getting a little too attached to his car. And yes, I tend to agree, who’s to say what can and can’t be a soul mate? Or at the very least, a faithful companion.
So glad you enjoyed the piece, Kimberly. I really appreciate your feedback. And thank you for quoting those lines, they were one of my favourite bits. :)
Michael! I love this so much. I bet you can imagine how many times I was like, oh my goodness, been there.
I especially love your description of the way the light played with the curtains of a morning and walking out to discover the gorgeous spot you two had landed in.
And watching kangaroos and the sea! Dreamy.
Thank you for the shout out, my friend. And thank you for sharing your sweet old friend with us.
Ohh Holly, I can only imagine how your times with Ruby and Vivian mirrored some of my own. The times I spent with my Old Girl is a big part of why (a) I’m drawn to the idea of Van life. And (b) I’m drawn to your tales from the road.
I am so so so happy you liked the bit about the curtains, and the kangaroos and the sea. I thought of you and your fantastic prose while writing those lines — in fact, I was trying to channel my inner Holly Starley while writing most of this hehe.
The shout out was my absolute pleasure! And thank you for inspiring me with your wonderful tales. :)
How cute is this!! It's true, we do form relationships with our cars. They really do become part of the family! Great photos too mate. RIP Old Girl and to all the cars we loved before!
Hehehe yeah it’s pretty cute. It’s about as sentimental as I think I’ve ever gotten about an inanimate object. But like you said, mate, they really do become part of the family.
Man, I've been there more times than I can count, lol. Same here with my first motorbike. Once you’ve been through enough miles and breakdowns together, it's not just a machine anymore. Great piece, bro.
Ohh bro. How many times can one man say those words before he just gives up and trades the thing in? That is a question I cannot answer — partly coz I’m a stubborn cheap idiot, and partly coz that car became much more than a machine to me. So glad this one resonated with you, Michael.
We can’t define souls, or even prove they exist. So, it’s arguable that some piece of our souls bleed into the machines we build, wield, and ride. At least, it’s comforting to think so.
I’ve often thought about it in these terms. Did parts of my soul bleed into that car? Or did the time we spend together help forge that car a soul? Or maybe it always had one and the times we had together allowed me to sense it… who knows… But whatever the case, I know part of that Old Girl is still with me.
Thanks for reading and for sharing your thoughts, Ray. I really appreciate it :)
I totally understand this attachment. We name our vehicles and they become part of the family which makes me sad when we have to say goodbye.
I love the perspective on this essay, how Old Girl talks back to you - of course she would, she was full of spunk and grit! I laughed out loud at swankier = wankier🤣.
I’m so glad to hear you also get attached to your cars, Donna. For a moment, I was worried I was a bit of a nutter (I mean, more so than I already am). But from the comments on this piece, it’s seems like lots of people get sentimental about their cars — which I find endearing.
Ohh yes, the Old Girl talked back, both in this piece and in real life hehehe.
So happy you laughed at that bit, I feel as though I’ve gotta be cheeky with my writing whenever possible hehe
This POV is genius, Michael!! Loved coming along for the ride down memory lane, THE PICS added so much, the skateboard as kitchen set up in the trunk was peak creativity.
Cheers to Old Girly and more of these lyrical moments.
Thank you, Kaylen. It was really fun playing with this POV. It felt a little strange at first, but by the end I seriously felt like I was reminiscing with the Old Girl.
Hahaha yes, there are so many things a skateboard can do and be, and back then, I really explored the limits of those possibilities.
Thanks again, Kaylen. I’m thrilled you liked the piece and the pics :)
Wonderful read, Michael! You hear stories of people on journeys but rarely talked about are the vehicles that get them from one journey to the next-we really do take them for granted, don't we? The pics were great visuals of your various eras (I'm curious-did the Old Girl prefer you keep your long hair or did she like it short?). That last pic-I also hug my cars when I have to let them go💞
Thank you, Kimber! And that’s a great point! It’s always about the people’s journey, and never about the cars or stead’s that get them there. It’s travesty how we take these faithful companions for granted!
Glad you liked the pics!
And ohh that’s a good question. Well, for most of our time together, I had long hair (two different sets of dreadlocks), so, I’d say the Old Girl was probably more partial to the long hair. Hehe
Thanks again, Kimber. And yes, we gotta hug em goodbye! :)
Dang it…DUDE. You’re gonna get ME all teary eyed. I love the intimate and bold choice to tell this tale the way it really was. For those of us who have…relationships with what clueless Muggles call “inanimate” objects…that’s how it is. Alas. I’ve never had a vehicle I loved enough to name. Most them have been desperately acquired hand me downs, gifted by parents or purchased for super cheap from friends. The one I paid for start to finish was my mourning vehicle that pissed me off to have to buy because a drunk had forced a car payment on me before the last one was paid off. Again, it was what I could afford and full of my desperate situation. They are always precious and revered for the labor they unquestioningly perform and the priceless gift of freedom. But I have always yearned to have a vehicle that inspired a name and an intimate bond with like this gem. Thank you so much for sharing this! The tale was a particularly delightful read—a gem too.
I can totally relate. All the other cars I’ve had were similar to your experience, hand me downs or cheapies. The Old Girl was one I bought from a dealership, she wasn’t brand new when I got her but she was only a few years old with low miles — so she was basically new. And yes, over those 13 years we forged a bond, one I was glad to share.
Perfection Michael. I loved this piece, I can so relate. The death of my old camper van nearly broke me. Oh yeah, and damn.... smoking hot long haired Michael with his badass face on.... phew! ha ha, sorry Evie :)
I didn’t know you had a camper van! That’s so awesome. Losing that would’ve surely been a struggle. I do hope there is a story that comes one day about your times in that camper van.
And thank you, April. I’m glad you enjoyed the piece, and I’m not quite sure how to respond to the compliment about my appearance… but I’ll take it hehe.
Ha ha ha, never fear Michael you are quite safe! Not gonna start stalking you or anything tee hee. Don't forget I was an old hippy back in the day, travelling around Europe in that camper, making leather bracelets to sell..... seeing you in your hippy days brought back fond memories!
Ahhh what a wonderful way to pass a day — making leather bracelets in a camper van. You’ve lived quite the life, April.
Evie often stirs me up for the leather bracelets I used to wear back in my hippy days, but she just doesn’t understand it was part of the uniform hehehe :)
Awww! *tears in eyes* That was a good one, Michael! Only people who have owned and loved a beater can really understand. We bought Chuck the Truck (Toyota Pickup, white, no model name, just "pickup") for $2K when we moved to Oakland in 2002 - he had about 90K miles on him already, and we put another 100K+ over 10 years, and managed to ride that two seater through the carpool lane to work in San Francisco every day, saving untold hours of waiting in line at the Bay Bridge toll plaza. Even sold him to a guy for $400 who wanted to rebuild him when he finally conked out and we bought Fievel Fiesta.
Ohh what a beautiful tale about Chuck the Truck, Troy. He sounds like he was really good to you. And it sounds like you returned the love. It’s such a special thing when we can bond with our machines in this way. I’m so glad you could relate.
This was fantastic to read Michael!
Thank you, Raf! I really appreciate that man :)
This piece is so lived in. There’s always one more story to recount, one more close call to spotlight, one more trip made possible. I loved that—I read this as though you were holding onto her anew as you conjured her back to life temporarily in words. Thirteen years is a long time for even the hardiest cat to run, but it’s also a long chunk of life full of growth and change and experience. This made me feel happy, but also a tad wistful.
The final photo sealed the deal. I have photos of our family’s cars on those fateful days when they got towed away. I teared up when they took my first car, but also when they took my mom’s that I learned to drive in…which looks incredibly similar to your car. Seeing the photos at the end and you alongside it felt like proof that feeling connection like that is a good thing.
You’ve gifted a beautiful story about your car, as well as thoughts about stories from my family’s now. This was a wonderful start to my day. Cheers to you and the old girl centering this piece.
Ohh man, there were so many more stories. I cut so many out just so that the piece didn’t run on indefinitely. In the end I decided to do as you mentioned and try to cover the various chunks of my life that the old girl featured in.
It’s a funny thing, how attached we can get to seemingly empty inanimate objects — to me that car had a soul and a personality, and I have no doubt the cars that featured in your life took on similar qualities.
I’m also glad you appreciated the photos, I wanted to include them as I suspect I’ll return to this piece from time to time for myself.
Thanks Michael, as always, your thoughts and readership add so much to my experience :)
It’s a quirky thing to see machinery as an extension of ourselves, but also a generous, very human thing. If they do have a soul or personality, it’s almost certainly a sliver from part of our own. In any case, this was a wonderful read.
Yes, I tend to agree. I think we imbue them with whatever soul that take on.
Thanks Michael.
And P.S — I am getting to your latest post, I’m just super behind on my Substack readings :)
Awesome Michael!!! So many bursting-with-life moments you created with your old girl. As always, there is a vibrant sense of immediacy that brings us along with you - every step of the way. Sometimes, we are right there by your side, and other times we are dragging behind! Beat up and dirt covered, but those are the moments in the piece that are the most satisfying, the most fun! It is decades beyond my acting out, stoner years, yet I too still have a visceral reaction when a cop gets too close. And I’m a law abiding grow up, for G-ds sake! It’s a kind of PTSD- and I felt that here- which is the best compliment I can think of! And that photo, of your younger self is also awesome. Not just the long hair but the look in your eyes- that twinkle - that I felt in my youth. A combination of “f- you” and “I just want to be heard”. Well, that’s I how felt in my years of discontent. Wow, so much of my past came back to life through your story. There you have it! So much has been triggered 😂 BUT that is the Best compliment I can think of.
Wow! Thank you Andrea! They really were some of the absolute best compliments! I’m flattered. And so very happy that my piece could evoke so many memories and feelings in you.
I love what you said about the twinkle in the eyes of youth. I certainly felt a lot of the ways you said you felt “f you” and “I just wanna be heard” for sure. Also, a deep desire for a type of freedom and adventure. Ahh how good my twenties were. And ahhh how good this comment was. Thanks again, Andrea your comments always make me smile :)
And you have pictures too!
Wonderful essay. It reminded me of that fab Ricky Lee Jones song The Last Chance Texaco.
I teared up when you had to tow her away. Funny how we can become emotionally attached to a car.
https://youtu.be/2ZWRPse9BZ8
Love it! Thank you :)
Ohh that’s amazing! I love that it reminded you of that song! How cool!
You’re telling me, I teared up something wicked when the old girl got towed away.
Haha Yeah, we’re a sentimental lot us humans, but damnit, what can we do? Our cars grow on us :)
Hi Michael, what a gorgeous love letter disguised as a road story. You let the Old Girl carry not just gear and grit, but whole eras of becoming: freedom, foolishness, tenderness, survival. By the end, she feels less like a car than a faithful witness to a life in motion. Beautiful work.
Ohhh that’s such a great way to put it, Camilla — “less like a car than a faithful witness to a life in motion.” I may have to rewrite the whole piece just so I can squeeze that line in there. hehehe.
But seriously, thank you. I’m so glad you liked it and I really value your feedback. :)
Awww, what a fun story…and fun ride! I love the personality you infused into her. Almost thought she was a metaphor for a girlfriend early on but that’s just my weird brain.
But then again…who says a hunk of metal can’t be a soul mate?
“I could’ve stared into that infinite nowhere forever. I don’t know what I was looking for out there. But whatever it was, you helped with that search.”
The old girl had quite the personality, so I’m really happy that came across.
Haha how interesting… nope, no girlfriend metaphor. Just a boy getting a little too attached to his car. And yes, I tend to agree, who’s to say what can and can’t be a soul mate? Or at the very least, a faithful companion.
So glad you enjoyed the piece, Kimberly. I really appreciate your feedback. And thank you for quoting those lines, they were one of my favourite bits. :)
Michael! I love this so much. I bet you can imagine how many times I was like, oh my goodness, been there.
I especially love your description of the way the light played with the curtains of a morning and walking out to discover the gorgeous spot you two had landed in.
And watching kangaroos and the sea! Dreamy.
Thank you for the shout out, my friend. And thank you for sharing your sweet old friend with us.
Ohh Holly, I can only imagine how your times with Ruby and Vivian mirrored some of my own. The times I spent with my Old Girl is a big part of why (a) I’m drawn to the idea of Van life. And (b) I’m drawn to your tales from the road.
I am so so so happy you liked the bit about the curtains, and the kangaroos and the sea. I thought of you and your fantastic prose while writing those lines — in fact, I was trying to channel my inner Holly Starley while writing most of this hehe.
The shout out was my absolute pleasure! And thank you for inspiring me with your wonderful tales. :)
How cute is this!! It's true, we do form relationships with our cars. They really do become part of the family! Great photos too mate. RIP Old Girl and to all the cars we loved before!
Thank you, Marmi my friend!
Hehehe yeah it’s pretty cute. It’s about as sentimental as I think I’ve ever gotten about an inanimate object. But like you said, mate, they really do become part of the family.
Here’s to all the cars we loved :)
"C’mon Old Girl, please fuckin start."
Man, I've been there more times than I can count, lol. Same here with my first motorbike. Once you’ve been through enough miles and breakdowns together, it's not just a machine anymore. Great piece, bro.
Ohh bro. How many times can one man say those words before he just gives up and trades the thing in? That is a question I cannot answer — partly coz I’m a stubborn cheap idiot, and partly coz that car became much more than a machine to me. So glad this one resonated with you, Michael.
Thanks bro :)
You're welcome, fratello :)
We can’t define souls, or even prove they exist. So, it’s arguable that some piece of our souls bleed into the machines we build, wield, and ride. At least, it’s comforting to think so.
I couldn’t agree more, Ray!
I’ve often thought about it in these terms. Did parts of my soul bleed into that car? Or did the time we spend together help forge that car a soul? Or maybe it always had one and the times we had together allowed me to sense it… who knows… But whatever the case, I know part of that Old Girl is still with me.
Thanks for reading and for sharing your thoughts, Ray. I really appreciate it :)
I totally understand this attachment. We name our vehicles and they become part of the family which makes me sad when we have to say goodbye.
I love the perspective on this essay, how Old Girl talks back to you - of course she would, she was full of spunk and grit! I laughed out loud at swankier = wankier🤣.
Great essay Michael, as usual.
I’m so glad to hear you also get attached to your cars, Donna. For a moment, I was worried I was a bit of a nutter (I mean, more so than I already am). But from the comments on this piece, it’s seems like lots of people get sentimental about their cars — which I find endearing.
Ohh yes, the Old Girl talked back, both in this piece and in real life hehehe.
So happy you laughed at that bit, I feel as though I’ve gotta be cheeky with my writing whenever possible hehe
Thanks friend, I really appreciate that :)
This POV is genius, Michael!! Loved coming along for the ride down memory lane, THE PICS added so much, the skateboard as kitchen set up in the trunk was peak creativity.
Cheers to Old Girly and more of these lyrical moments.
Thank you, Kaylen. It was really fun playing with this POV. It felt a little strange at first, but by the end I seriously felt like I was reminiscing with the Old Girl.
Hahaha yes, there are so many things a skateboard can do and be, and back then, I really explored the limits of those possibilities.
Thanks again, Kaylen. I’m thrilled you liked the piece and the pics :)
Wonderful read, Michael! You hear stories of people on journeys but rarely talked about are the vehicles that get them from one journey to the next-we really do take them for granted, don't we? The pics were great visuals of your various eras (I'm curious-did the Old Girl prefer you keep your long hair or did she like it short?). That last pic-I also hug my cars when I have to let them go💞
Thank you, Kimber! And that’s a great point! It’s always about the people’s journey, and never about the cars or stead’s that get them there. It’s travesty how we take these faithful companions for granted!
Glad you liked the pics!
And ohh that’s a good question. Well, for most of our time together, I had long hair (two different sets of dreadlocks), so, I’d say the Old Girl was probably more partial to the long hair. Hehe
Thanks again, Kimber. And yes, we gotta hug em goodbye! :)
Dang it…DUDE. You’re gonna get ME all teary eyed. I love the intimate and bold choice to tell this tale the way it really was. For those of us who have…relationships with what clueless Muggles call “inanimate” objects…that’s how it is. Alas. I’ve never had a vehicle I loved enough to name. Most them have been desperately acquired hand me downs, gifted by parents or purchased for super cheap from friends. The one I paid for start to finish was my mourning vehicle that pissed me off to have to buy because a drunk had forced a car payment on me before the last one was paid off. Again, it was what I could afford and full of my desperate situation. They are always precious and revered for the labor they unquestioningly perform and the priceless gift of freedom. But I have always yearned to have a vehicle that inspired a name and an intimate bond with like this gem. Thank you so much for sharing this! The tale was a particularly delightful read—a gem too.
I can totally relate. All the other cars I’ve had were similar to your experience, hand me downs or cheapies. The Old Girl was one I bought from a dealership, she wasn’t brand new when I got her but she was only a few years old with low miles — so she was basically new. And yes, over those 13 years we forged a bond, one I was glad to share.
I’m so happy you enjoyed the piece dude! :)
Absolutely!!! 🤓🤩🤓
Poor car, she did so well, right up to the bitter end. She will be missed.
She was the best. Almost as good as you ….. almost hehehe 😘
Perfection Michael. I loved this piece, I can so relate. The death of my old camper van nearly broke me. Oh yeah, and damn.... smoking hot long haired Michael with his badass face on.... phew! ha ha, sorry Evie :)
I didn’t know you had a camper van! That’s so awesome. Losing that would’ve surely been a struggle. I do hope there is a story that comes one day about your times in that camper van.
And thank you, April. I’m glad you enjoyed the piece, and I’m not quite sure how to respond to the compliment about my appearance… but I’ll take it hehe.
Thanks homie :)
Ha ha ha, never fear Michael you are quite safe! Not gonna start stalking you or anything tee hee. Don't forget I was an old hippy back in the day, travelling around Europe in that camper, making leather bracelets to sell..... seeing you in your hippy days brought back fond memories!
Ahhh what a wonderful way to pass a day — making leather bracelets in a camper van. You’ve lived quite the life, April.
Evie often stirs me up for the leather bracelets I used to wear back in my hippy days, but she just doesn’t understand it was part of the uniform hehehe :)
Awww! *tears in eyes* That was a good one, Michael! Only people who have owned and loved a beater can really understand. We bought Chuck the Truck (Toyota Pickup, white, no model name, just "pickup") for $2K when we moved to Oakland in 2002 - he had about 90K miles on him already, and we put another 100K+ over 10 years, and managed to ride that two seater through the carpool lane to work in San Francisco every day, saving untold hours of waiting in line at the Bay Bridge toll plaza. Even sold him to a guy for $400 who wanted to rebuild him when he finally conked out and we bought Fievel Fiesta.
Ohh what a beautiful tale about Chuck the Truck, Troy. He sounds like he was really good to you. And it sounds like you returned the love. It’s such a special thing when we can bond with our machines in this way. I’m so glad you could relate.
Thanks brother :)
"Our machines" hehe we love our go-go robots 🤖