The D is Home

Last night I had a dream that I was a muffler. I woke up exhausted. *Pause for laughter*

After a long vacation in my parents double garage, the D has arrived home. It sparkles knowingly, parked in its very own garage. The concrete walls are jealous. Only the floor gets to touch...
It looks content.

This DeLorean has had a strange life, and I think it longs to return to California, where it was first purchased. Back on the west coast, it was happily driven to exciting locations, including a summer home in Arizona.

On its 10th Birthday, some hooligans stole its wheels. The owner purchased a brand new set of wheels for it and everything was right again. Around that time, a friend of the original owner committed suicide in his DeLorean. He left a widow, who sold the car, and gave the spare tire to the original owner of my DeLorean. Two years later it was sold to a Canuck and began its journey north, to a new life in British Columbia. For a dozen years it was a mainstay in local parades, but only accumulated 5,000 miles. For 12 years, it basically sat in a garage.

And now, after a train trip across the country, on the other side of Canada, it peacefully sits in my garage. I'm going to drive it tonight.