Marsha E. Mallow

Just like so many who venture to this town, Marsha came to LA, but had to leave.  The reason?  Morbid obesity.  See, LA doesn't take kindly to the portly.  In order to thrive here, you must be svelte and slim, at your optimum always.  Marsha didn't fit in the spaces required of her, she required too much food, and no one was impressed with her power and prowess in other arenas.  So she had to go.  

OK, I'm talking about my car.  Marsha Mallow. 

She was a graduation present when I finished college.  She really has been a phenomenal car, but just didn't make sense for LA anymore.  While I was running around the country, a V6 engine and AWD was requisite, Lord knows I was packing some stuff around.  But here, she's just too fat!  She doesn't fit in any of the parking lots, she eats through gas, and is constantly out of alignment from barreling over the speed bumps and pot holes.  I was totally ready to move on, but not before an overly nostalgic blog-post about our times together.  Marsha and me:

Just look at all of the places we have been! This doesn't even include all of the trips to Cashmere, Yuma, San Diego, Austin, and the like in between work assignments.  

It's been a good run, Ms. Mallow. 

In the name of change, I just purchased this little guy last week and we are still getting to know each other.  He's a 2009 VW Rabbit, and I am thinking of naming him Buggs.  Not sure yet, but one thing I do know, he has some big shoes to fill.