Ralph and me

I officially sold my SUV last month (due to desperate times, etc.). It had sentimental value because it was my first car.

I purchased it in 2018 and named him Ralph because it was the first owner’s name. Ralph and his wife had taken fantastic care of the car until they decided to downgrade to a smaller vehicle.

Ralph was a 2005 Honda CR-V. I don’t know much about cars and their manufacturing history, but it was part of the last series made in Japan. Quality-wise that made Ralph special. The next-generation CR-V was made in North America or Mexico. 

I purchased Ralph in Surrey, B.C., so that I could drive to work. It had put a great dent in my finances at the time, but I got to be independent. I hate relying on people driving me to places.

Listing my car for sale wasn’t easy because I knew that people in Alberta love B.C.-owned cars. Just look at Alberta’s salt-eaten vehicles, and you will know what I mean.

I drove Ralph for almost two years when we were living near White Rock. 

I drove him a lot—to the shop, to yoga, to the beach, to my therapist…I drove him with more confidence than I ever had.

I even hit a fricking RAM pickup driver in the rear at a 4-way stop near our house. A witness spoke against me, but I begged to differ. I waited for a white car to make its move. Afterward, it was clearly my turn.

There was no other vehicle in sight, and I could swear that the truck driver didn’t even stop at the 4-way intersection. I had checked my left and right.

Luckily, I only hit him in the rear; otherwise, he could’ve hit me on the driver’s side.

Whatever…that claim is closed, leaving me to pay my goddamn deductible.

Over a year ago, I drove Ralph all the way from the coast to Alberta—past the Rogers Pass in the mountains. I’d never even dreamed of driving the Trans-Canada Highway. I was lucky there was hardly any snow, but not so lucky when driving on muddy, dusty roads. I ran out of windshield washer fluids and panicked. I don’t know how I’d made it safely.

I haven’t used Ralph as much in Calgary. Driving in a congested city environment is scarier than driving in the mountains. 

To ease my cognitive dissonance, I’m going to say: I’m a bad driver anyway, so why drive?

That’s the story of Ralph and me. If you’ve ever named your first car, you will know how it feels.

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