This is a story of loss and gain. I was very fortunate during my college years to have been given an old family truck to begin my life adventure. He was a good friend I nicknamed the Red Sled. This 93' Chevy S-10 was a loyal sidekick moving me back and forth from my hometown of Erie to Rochester for school. With studded snow tires and 2 forty pound bags of salt (cheapest weight Walmart offered) there wasn't a snowstorm we couldn't conquer. I had a 6 month co-op with Johnson & Johnson in Philadelphia and who do you think hauled all my crap down and back. Yeah we got stuck in the mud on a camping trip once, and yes we have had our share of trips to Dr. Monroe, but there comes a time when we all must cease existence in our present form, and begin transition to the next phase, whether dirt, a medical student's cold steel table, or in The Red Sled's case, that big scrap yard in the sky.

Things got bad toward the end. I had found a newer friend, and he knew then it was only a matter of time. I tried to show him the numbers, he just didn't understand this magic blue book and the figures it spat out. The more I explained to him how Dr. Monroe's numbers would be so much greater, the more he argued his case. Like those stone walls you see as you drive through a small Connecticut town, he stood firm. He tried to hide his worsening condition for as long as possible when one day he just couldn't go any more.



I watched as a small rainbow tear fell from within him, he accepted, it was time.


The need for a new fuel pump, a new starter, body work beyond bondo and duct tape, and that little thing known as a state inspection forced me to pull the plug. I made some calls to local places advertising the acceptance of scrap cars and took the highest bidder. A nice guy came out on Friday, handed over $250 in cash, and hauled my friend away. Yes, I know I had alternatives: Craigslist, charities, buying Auto Repair For Dummies, but I just didn't want to deal with the hassle, he was well past his time.

Thus closes one chapter, and opens a new one.

I'll never forget my good friend, that Red Sled, the stuff we have hauled, the talk radio shows we listed to...