Lament for a Pipe Cleaner

I love my truck. He is tiny and red. I got him my junior year in high school. My dad bought him from the parents of some crazy felon who had done horrible things to the truck. It was missing all its shocks, the windows were tinted so much you couldn’t see out, the gas gauge did nothing but serve as decoration, and the stereo system was entirely gutted.

But I loved him anyway and tried to fix him up. I added some partially effective shocks and got rid of the horrible tint job. The stereo problem remained for a long time and the gas gauge still doesn’t work to this day, but he was like my best friend.

When I moved to college, I had to abandon him for an entire semester and it was very painful. By December I couldn’t take the separation anymore and drove him up to Dallas. In honor of our reunited state, I introduced my beautiful truck to two new friends that would change his life forever: Edgar and Perren.

Edgar was a tiny stuffed beaver. He was very intelligent looking and very menacing at the same time. I dubbed him responsible for all things law related. It would be Edgar’s job to keep the police away, even when I was doing things not necessarily lawful in the eyes of traffic court. He would sit in the middle of the dashboard, pressed up against the glass, always vigilant for signs of The Man.

Perren was different. He was a tiny balled-up orange pipe cleaner with little googly eyes who hung from a piece of wire. He was unique looking, and as such he developed a skill for being very good at not judging others. Perren received the job of hanging from the rear-view mirror and observing traffic. Unlike Edgar, Perren was not active in affecting the traffic; he was simply responsible for it. If you ended up in a traffic jam and were frustrated, you could smack Perren and he would spin around the cab. It was stress relieving for both of you, because Perren loved spinning and never judged your anger.

Together as a unit, the three worked in perfect harmony for many years. It was very sweet. But as time went on, things grew older and started to fall apart. And not just me. By the end of 2003, my beautiful truck had to be rechristened The Truck of Malfunction, because nothing really worked anymore (lights, windshield wipers, gas gauge, speakers, seats, air conditioning), besides the primary function of generally being able to travel from point A to point B on a consistent basis. Which was mostly enough.

But December 2003 also brought another depressing milestone: the retirement of Perren. Alas, while the three had worked together so well for lo these many years, a poor pipe cleaner can only be bashed around a truck so many times before he loses both his googly eyes and becomes unable to fulfill his duties. So now he lives in my desk drawer, relaxing with the other wire-based products, like the staples and paperclips. Edgar still lives in the truck, a little faded, but with the excellent record of only 2 run-ins with John Law in almost 4 years.

For now Edgar is a little lonely, but understands about such things. Thus, for now there is the Lament for Perren, truly the bravest pipe cleaner ever to be held responsible for Dallas traffic. At least until that beautiful day that I find some more crazy eyes and a hot glue gun and return him to service.

Yeah, it’s a strange, magical, and vaguely creepy world whenever you’re in Jason Land.