Today I was driving through town, on my way home from a meeting. I noticed the car directly in front of me, a Toyota. I did not recognize the model, as it was a much older version of the Toyota line. So old in fact, its name placard was long gone. In its earliest days, fresh off the line, the car was most likely a vibrant canary yellow. These days, it looked more like buttercream on wheels. The trunk was a completely different color, a gun metal gray. Other than that, the car was in remarkable shape.
At the next light, I pulled into the left turn lane. Yellow Toyota was to my right. The guy driving was just a regular Preble County kind-of-guy. You might see 50 versions of him, on any given day. He was probably in his early eighties. I’m guessing his name was Earl, or Bucky, or Bert. He was sporting a blue and green plaid-ish type shirt. The kind with short sleeves and little white buttons that go almost all the way up. Toyota Guy also wore a hat. Those white-mesh-in-the-back / spongy-red-in-front variety. It had a run of letters like BPOEFE. Or OOEW. Or something. Glasses. Just a guy. Driving his early model Toyota.
But there. Right there. And… this sort of thing doesn’t happen often, I’ll tell you. There it was, for all to see. One of those perfect moments…. where the Universe opens up and lays a big fat gift for us, humans, to behold. Yes. THERE. Right there on his dashboard. A Hello-Kitty-Bobble-Head.
There were no other adornments to his classic old car. No bumper stickers, or fuzzy dice. Just a Hello-Kitty-Bobble-Head. And he owned. He owned it like none other. And she just stood there… on the dashboard, staring toward him…. nodding in agreement. Like… “Oh yes, you DO.”
And THAT made me happy somehow.