Long may you run...

In September of 2000, I received what is perhaps the greatest material gift ever given: two-thirds (I paid a portion) of a four-door, powder blue, 1986 Chevrolet Celebrity. The Celeb. 

 I promptly bought and installed a CD player, an essential element to any 16-year-old anxious to cruise along the open road with windows down and music blaring. 

"Israel's Son," by Silverchair was the first song to spring forth from the speakers. (It was the first track on Frogstomp.)

The Celeb provided countless memories. The time McGaffic crammed an orange down over the antenna that was left to rot for months. Driving to State College through a blizzard for a Weezer concert only to have something go wrong on the way back, limiting the Celeb's top-speed to a mere 40 miles per hour, causing semis to pose a serious threat to her. Getting caught and subsequently yelled at by Mrs. Ward doing donuts in the  parking lot prior to basketball practice. Driving friends around---Steak 'n' Shake, the Southern Park Mall, Pittsburgh, wherever. Countless drives to and from Cene Park for those sweet summer baseball nights. Skipping school to drive to Best Buy and buy Weezer's Green Album---that I'd been waiting on for five years. Jamming to Good Charlotte on the way home from school with Cramer and Kayla in tow, which brings me to what was the greatest achievement of the Celeb's long list of accomplishments. 

The Celeb was the place where my sister and I became close.  We'd always had a pretty good brother-sister relationship. We got along well. There never was much fighting. But the freedom that the Celeb provided was the freedom that allowed us to really get to know one another. One of my greatest high school memories is flying down Metz Road on the way to school every morning, screaming at the top of our lungs to whatever CD happened to be in that day. Oasis' The Masterplan, Good Charlotte's self-titled debut, Weezer's first three albums, Ozma's Rock and Roll Part Three, The Return of the Rentals, Eve6, and countless others. These drives were priceless. 

My sister and I have remained close since then, and it's perhaps my most treasured relationship. I just realized a few weeks ago when she came out with my friends and I that the fact we are truly friends is something of a rarity. An older and wiser friend from work made the comment that "we seem like a blast together," and that couldn't be more spot-on. We are a blast together. 

I don't know what became of the Celeb; I can't even remember who we sold her to or if we even sold her. Her age was starting to show, but I will forever be grateful for the wonderful experiences and newfound freedom that she provided. So, Celeb, if you're still out there somewhere carting some new teenager or old man to and from school or work or wherever, this one goes out to you:

We've been through some things together,
With trunks of memories still to come
We found things to do in stormy weather,
Long may you run.

Long may you run,
Long may you run,
Although these changes have come.
With your chrome heart shining in the sun,
Long may you run.