Ode to The Seahorse

From the time of my very first car to now, I've always found an element of deep connection with cars. Perhaps it's another form of horse craziness- since all my life it's been impractical and financially impossible to actually own one.

Cars are a faithful, unquestioning means by which I get to have the freedom to "move about." Cars also offer up a particular facet of identity that predates all this internet shit.

If you look around at all the Atmosphere Annilhilating PrestigeMobiles (TM- copy and paste fingers OFF!) you see on the roads, it's clear I am not alone. People care how they look and feel and how a car responds. It's an identity thing.

For me, I've always liked the Junker look. And so it has been since 1998. In any kind of freeway faceoff, whether the Beamer hits the Toyota, or the Toyota hits the Beamer, it's going to be bad for the Beamer.

In the above college photography experiment, I used my friend Susan as a model to convey sensuality behind one of the many meanings of "vamp," which eventually became vampituity. The sign at her feet was on the Sentra, my first car. It read, "Forever Vamp." When I moved to California, that provoked a lot of questions- which I found annoying to have to answer.

On the edge of 238,000 miles, my Seahorse (1988 Toyota Corolla) has had a rebirth. 4 new tires and an alignment job and s/he's (the car has always been asexual) ready to roll again- perhaps to give me another 200,000 miles of life. Corollas are pretty incredible.

My Seahorse has been a devoted car for 9.5 years, it will be hard to make this next transition, especially since s/he still runs amazingly well. Circumstance and luck have blown a well-cared for used 2005 Honda Hybrid (been wanting a hybrid for awhile now) into my life. I wanted to commemorate it with a "Seahorse in the Sky with Diamonds" image. It also was never much to look at.

--My Seahorse was the car that I installed a huge stereo in and would drive around the 'hood with Arabic music playing that would cause the back end to shake.

--My Seahorse was the car I could, and did, play chicken with Hummers and Tahoes in.

--I could take My Seahorse anywhere- and NEVER have to worry about dents or caring what it looked like or who violated it.

--My Seahorse never failed me and never broke down (of course, it was also under a magic spell never to do so anywhere inconvenient).

--I bid farewell to the Seahorse's protective exoskeleton which kept me safe and sound- even when an old man driving by caught the edge of my drivers door and pivoted it totally perpendicular to the car- and still the Seahorse never dropped its door.

In honor of how blessed I have been by having the Seahorse, I suggest you listen to Contact by Phish. Fire it up and listen. It was definitely a lot more than the way the Seahorse clung to the road when the wind tried to shove it.

I am donating the Seahorse to charity with proceeds being sent to Horsenet Horse Rescue. I chose the organization because they are like Friends of the Oakland Animal Shelter. I can't have enough admiration for other all-volunteer run groups- but I can share my love of horses with them in help it can make a difference to the life of an animal.