Leonard has been with me for almost 5 years now, but I fear he is dying.
Leonard is my 1996 Chevy Lumina. I do not mean to lead my faithful listeners into lust and envy by describing such a vehicle – I am merely a lucky man who has been fortunate enough to command one of the most powerful and dynamic machines ever to grace American roadways. The Lumina.
When I sit in Leonard, I often feel the urge to hold my sword aloft and shout, “To Valhalla!” as he speeds me away from my lonely, miserable existance, and onward towards the light of honor and freedom. When I am in the bowels of my steed Leonard, I no longer feel that I am unpleasant to look at, or that my presence saps the energy of all around me because I can’t shut up about whatever it is I’m obsessed with on that particular day. No, Leonard makes me into more than an awkward, annoying man. In Leonard I am a Norse god, thundering across the skies like a Viking warship with an automatic transmission and busted water pump. In Leonard, I swiftly dispense justice to the masses writhing below, leaking oil and antifreeze onto them like a benevolent deity, quenching the oil-lust of the teeming earth-bound mortals that I keep vigil over.
So long story short, Leonard’s pretty sweet. I’m going to miss that dirty blue piece of crap.