Reunions...but not the one you think...

Is it strange that the vision in my head of that good ol' Magical Flat Black Minivan, a.k.a. Black Betty...strapped to the back of a transporter, flying down the highway, SOMEWHERE in America right now fills me with glee I haven't felt in a long time?

That's right, ladies and gentlemen, Black Betty, my long lost love...is being returned to me!!! Or, more precisely, I'm having her shipped to me from the high desert where she's sat for the past two years since my own escape...to me here in Boston. She's also packed heavy with much of the shit I left behind there, but that's not the part that's filling me with glee. It's just her that does it. We have history, she and I. We escaped a hurricane together, escaped the state of Texas together. I've "slept it off" more than once while tucked safely in her cavernous insides (sans seats, of course). I"ve packed and moved and packed and moved and packed and moved with her. And, of course, there have been the numerous trips down the quarter mile track at Los Angeles County Raceway together...winning...flipping the bird into the stands as those teenage assholes pointed and laughed...as I continued to win...

Yes, me and Betty, we have history. A happy, broken hearted history.

She's out there right now... I wonder if she's got some little car friends strapped on the truck with her. Are they being nice to her? Does she know where she's headed? Is it raining? Is she cold?

Geez, I hope my family doesn't mind when I completely abandon them, to spend some quality time speeding down the highway with my old friend.

Oh right...FAMILY...and OTHER reunions, you say?

No dice. At least, not yet.

I don't have the patience to sit and type out the whole thing...because frankly I'm far too distracted by the anticipation of my OWN reunion with my OWN vehicular family...

So, you'll just have to wait...