A moment of silence. A gentle tear shed. A sniffle or two. A hug and comforting pat.
The Hummer is gone. Sold. Never to be seen again. Here it is sitting forlornly in the rain about to be driven off to a new home. A new home filled with the laughter of children. The panting of dogs. The crack of gunfire. Nerf gunfire.
Farewell, Hummer, how briefly we knew thee. Oh how I’ll miss your hulking presence in traffic, your Prius crushing monster tires, your speedy automatic windows, your XM-radio. Alas, life will never be the same.
You’ll always live on in my heart, you big metal lug.
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
What are you going to do now to get VW combi van drivers to flip you off as you drive by.
so sad. it served us well, horatio. the airport run was safe and sane, the lights coming down the asphalt to scoop us up and carry us home. thank you for all the fun and to be a part of an era. mom