It’s incredible how an object that is so random and seemingly-insignificant can bring back a flood of memories in the most bizarre of ways.
Let me just tell you what I mean.
Late last week, just after we got this nice dump of snow that decided to make its debut not even a week into November, I got up one morning before heading to work and started my SUV to let it run for a few minutes. I have one of those key fob things where it’s not even real keys, as my vehicle is a push-start model, but all the same, I still have it attached to a keychain.
I started my vehicle, headed back into my bedroom, and nonchalantly tossed the key fob onto my bed as I proceeded to get myself ready for the day.
Walking back from the bathroom minutes later, I looked at my bed and noticed that my keychain had broken; more specifically, the plastic had busted that housed the picture of one of my favourite TV characters, Stan Marsh from the animated show, ‘Â鶹´«Ã½AV Park’.
I stood there and stared at the busted plastic and newly-freed picture for a few seconds.
My first thought was, ‘How the hell does something like that break open by being tossed on a BED?’
My second thought was, ‘This kinda hurts more than it probably should, in retrospect.’
At this point, you may be reading this and going, ‘C’mon, man, it was just a keychain! What do they cost, a couple of bucks?’
Yes, it was just a novelty keychain to everyone else with no sentimental value, but to me it represented a lot more than just being something neat that dangled from car keys. To me, it represented a part of my transition from a young man into adulthood, particularly when it comes to my driving history.
I bought that Â鶹´«Ã½AV Park keychain at the old CD Plus store (remember those?) back when I was a teen who couldn’t even drive yet. It was so long ago that I can’t even tell you the year, but I’d have to say either 1999 or 2000.
At that point, it merely sat in my dresser drawer at home. But by the time 2002 arrived and I was driving (legally, anyway), Stan Marsh found himself on the first of several sets of keys and had a pretty good view of all the shenanigans and unforgettable times I had behind the wheel.
First up was Brown Betty, my dad’s old ’79 Chevy pickup that he gave me since at that point I was doing barn chores every day after school outside of Conquest. My friends and I definitely had some fun with Brown Betty; some of it innocent, and some that perhaps shouldn’t be repeated in a community newspaper.
Next up was The Joker, another old GMC pickup that I had over a decade ago that I simply painted purple and green. Without a doubt, it was the worst possible thing to drive if I wanted to look inconspicuous.
After that was Frank, my 2008 Ford Fusion car. My first ‘adult’ vehicle purchase and a car that gave me some great years and saw many, many miles out on roads, highways, and even across borders.
Finally, we get to Francis, my current Ford Escape SUV and a vehicle in which I’ve once again had some great times with on journeys here, there and seemingly everywhere.
Through it all, that Â鶹´«Ã½AV Park keychain was there with me; there at every late night driving excursion, every border crossing, every trip up to the lake, and every other grid road, dirt path, and busy/lonely highway in between over a span of nearly twenty years.
Isn’t it funny how these ‘objects of our affection’ have a weird way of digging up the past, no matter how insignificant that object may be?
For this week, that’s been the Ruttle Report.
