Thursday, March 22, 2012
Chevy runs deep- to reveal this family's emotional scars
Imagine being this guy's son. Dad's "Chevy was his baby, he loved it..." sure, people talk like that about their cars (or at least they did, when cars might have been worth treasuring.) But calling a car your "baby" that you "love"- that's just a figure of speech. Of course, a guy with a wife and family doesn't really "love" his car. He loves his wife, his children, and the life they have together.
Well, maybe not. This particular dad's love for his Chevy was so deep, so all-consuming, that when his kids became adults, they launched a five-year search for the very car he once had to part with (we aren't told why. Or maybe we are, and I just wasn't paying attention. I'm not paid to do this, you know.)
And when Never Quite Good Enough To Take The Place of a Fucking Car children finally locate Dad's God Damn Chevy Which Was Always More Important Than Our Baseball Games and deliver it to the aging patriarch, well...Dad's reaction is everything they could have hoped for. The guy actually breaks down. He's crying. He's holding his heart, like his fondest wish has been fulfilled. Deborah saying "I love you too" and "yes, I'll marry you?" That was ok. Birth of first child? Meh. Grandchildren? Whatever.
But present dad with his old Chevy- and the old guy crumbles into a teary, visibly moved and shaken bowl of jello. THIS is what occupied his every free moment until that horrible moment of parting, so many years back. And THIS is what is going to be filling what had once been a huge cavity in his heart from now on. Dad takes a few moments to tell his kids how much he's missed the Love of his Life, before heading off for a drive.
The sad, pathetic efforts of his children to earn a modicum of Dad's love has reached a new level here. In another scenario, they bitterly hunt down that Piece of Shit Chevy Dad Would Never Let Us Come Near Let Alone Drive, buy it, and have it crushed into a cube, earning a pat on the head from the family therapist. In another scenario, these kids would trace their lack of self-esteem and their inability to hold a relationship together to their emotionally absent dad and his Freaking Precious Why Don't You Just Marry It Already You Know You Love It More than You Ever Loved Mom car, and finally have it out with the stunted old idiot at the Christmas table when they simply can't deal with another telling of the How My Life Fell Apart The Day I Had To Sell That Car saga dad pulls out of his ass every holiday. Either one would make a better commercial than this weird pile of crud.