Ron Burgundy

My first car. He was a burgundy 2004 Chevy Trailblazer, complete with four wheel drive and non-leather seats. He was a beaut and man was he good to me. He went through more with me than any car, or person for that matter, should have to go through with a girl. I don't really have any great picture of him - but here is a nice one of his rear.

In high school, your car practically defines who you are, or at least where I'm from. So you might notice the four stickers on the back. It is fair to say that those also represented all the treasures that filled every inch of Ron. I'll start with the two typical high school stickers, my volleyball and theatre found on the right side.

With volleyball came the beautiful stench that developed in Ron during season; a mix between dirty feet and forced air freshener, occasionally mixed with Hawaiian Febreze. The emergency volleyball supplies Ron held handy at all times consisted of: one all-weather volleyball, a pair of athletic clothes incase a spontaneous sand volleyball game were to occur, knee-pads with a stench that carried for miles, water bottles for hydration and Gatorades if my electrolytes were to get low, a box of Mueller Pre-Wrap in forrest green to tend to my tendonitous and become an instant headband, and of course, socks. Socks of different heights, colors, patterns, and solids. Even though volleyball was my main squeeze, I could still get down on the tennis court. Because of that, my tennis racquet and a three pack of Wilson US Open tennis balls was always available in the trunk, along with a spare frisbee, hacky sack, baseball glove and bathing suite.

Well, if that isn't enough, we move onto the next sticker: theatre. Now with this, Ron was put to a challenge. See, this could include any prop, costume, or set piece you can think of. It has ranged from a pirate costume, tree branches, an Iron Man mask, fake flowers and fruit, a thrown, chainsaw, british hats, gogo boots, and any wig you can imagine. Mullet, Bieber, clown afro, 1970s afro, Repunzel hair, red bob, black goth, blonde locks, and even clip in colored hair pieces. I was known to have the miniature costume closet in my trunk, so when on the go, or even buying food in a drive-thru, we could always provide an interesting twist to an unfortunate stranger's night.

Anyway, if you direct your eyes to the left side of Ron's rear end, you will notice my Young Life sticker and "Earth/Art" sticker from the Modern. In high school I was miss Young Life, and I am still in love with the ministry. I would sport that sticker on on my car now if I still had one. With this, there weren't a lot of objects floating around, besides the flyers that would eventually cover my floor board. With this label came the obligation and opportunity to cart people everywhere. I would pick friends up for club on Monday night, drive my girls around to get snowcones, and stuff people in the trunk when all the seats were filled. And well, with the Modern sticker, I went through a big art phase, where all I wanted to do was go to plays and museums and really care about something, so that sticker really "spoke to me" when I saw it at the Modern. Impulse ya know? Better then a tattoo. 

Poor Ron got picked on by friends and the police more then he could help. He was pretty magical in the way that he could transform into a jungle gym, climbing wall, bed, canvas, and race car. Not only was he bullied by outside forces, but had to deal with a pretty crappy driver. I managed to get pulled over six times while with him, and pushed his max speed to 110 mph a few times when racing after church (luckily I never got pulled over during any of these races). Oh yeah, and he got banged into a mailbox, two stationary cars, and a lot of curbs. He took it like a man though; he was a man. 

Ron had a free spirit. He loved to drive around for hours with no final destination - just cruisin'. He would jam out hard, allowing the radio to blast and his antenna blow in the wind. He always came through whether it was just my daily drive to Starbucks, mudding through the trails, or a friend and I went to Oklahoma on impulse. He was down and ready for any adventure thrown his way. There are times that I see Ron's impostors on the road and find myself missing him; the easy turn of the wheel, the break that wasn't as sensitive as I needed it to be, the quiet purr of his engine starting so my parents couldn't hear when sneaking out, and the stick that would shift from drive to neutral with no command. He always came through when I needed him most, keeping me safe and happy. He provided my freedom, sparks of joy, and means of being spontaneous. He was there when I needed to cry, when I needed to scream, and most importantly, put up with my singing voice when no one else would.

"I don't know how to put this, but I'm kind of a big deal" - Ron Burgundy 

Ron - you are a big deal in my eyes. Thanks for everything.