Benjamin & A Red Subie

I don't have a car anymore. 

A Memorandum.

I paid for my first and only car in cash because I did not believe in buying anything you could not afford. I've had it for six years. I bought it with 89,000 miles on it, and it died with 144,000. I expected to make it to 200,000-250,000, which well-maintained subies can do. It died between Hanover and Providence, RI on my way to a Physicians for Human Rights conference. I can outline the saga another time (no collisions). My car is undergoing reincarnation at a junkyard in Billerica, MA. Benjamin is the gift I received in exchange for the opportunity to dismember my car and sell its parts. It was a bit traumatic. The car had carried me from Illinois to Wyoming to California to New Hampshire between the ages of 24 and 30. During the last move from CA to NH, I could fit all of my belongings in it, including 2 bicycles and 3 pairs of skis. It has allowed me to visit family, friends, boyfriends, and mountains (my current spiritual dwelling).

Despite being stranded in Billerica, MA, I made it to the conference. 

Did you know my Benjamin is equivalent to 8 months of full-time work in Haiti! Did you know that you can't be GLBT in Jamaica? I met a gay male from Jamaica seeking asylum in the US after being abandoned and abused by his family, cops, and community. Without getting too graphic, beatings, knives, and electrical cords were involved. He had never been openly gay. His people presumed by visual & vocal stereotypes. If you're not appalled, please reflect. 

His message to all Americans: There are people that don't come to your borders for a handout. They don't come to live the American dream. They come to exist, to live without daily fear of being beaten or killed.

After going to a health and human rights conference, it's hard to give a shit about a car.