Auto Biography XV

“A Fine Set of Wheels”

This photo is not the photo I would have used for this post; however, the shot I would have used was never taken. It’s forever etched in my mind, though. If a picture is worth a thousand words, put up your feet while I try to describe the scenario on the night before we traded Jules for a new Volkswagen.

Our dear friend Treena has a professional grade camera and offered to take some photos for posterity. We don’t have many pictures of our beloved Camaro. What we do have are “working” snaps, pictures taken on road trips or after weather events like the Blizzard of ’96. We never did do the photo op we talked about when he was brand new. That’s why, in the shots Treena took, there’s a dent in his right flank and the hood on the driver’s door mirror is still wearing its factory primer (we never got it painted after the lens went phht!—but that’s another story). All the same, we took immaculate care of his motor and safety features; he had over 160,000 kms on him when we let him go, but he still ran like a dream.

I digress.

On his last night with us, I drove Treena up to Craigdarroch Castle and watched her do her photographer thing. She circled the car, snapping this way and that, taking cool background shots, artsy angle shots, and whatever else shots she felt would do justice to her unwitting subject. Through it all, Jules stood quietly, not posing precisely, but behaving like a gentleman for the lady. I wish I’d thought to bring my own camera, not to try my hand at emulating Treena, but to catch the moment when Jules ceased to be an inanimate object and became, for a brief instant, a living, breathing creature.

I was standing behind and to the right of the car as she crouched to get this shot. Treena is a delicate little thing, a fairy child with hollow bones, who might be blown into the trees by an aggressive gust of wind. Jules was coiled like panther, muscles bunched and thrumming, as she hunkered by his nose and lifted her camera. In that moment, in the mystic evening light, he looked about to pounce ... but then he lowered his head and let her take his picture. Seeing the two of them in that frame created a delightful memory which, unfortunately, I can only share through these inadequate words, but which will stay with me for the rest of my days.