Suddenly Me driving Richard's Lincoln MKZ

If you knew Richard (it’s so strange and painful to put that in the past tense), you know that he loved to bargain.  It really didn’t matter if it was a small garage or estate sale purchase (which he loved), or a large purchase such as a vehicle, he always loved whatever it was even more if he felt like he had talked down the price or had some “extras” thrown in.  I don’t actually think that he ever purchased a vehicle that was brand new, as there was less opportunity to “beat them” on the price, and most of his vehicle purchases were made paying cash after a “good day” at the race track, but they were always “new” to him.  And no matter what anyone else thought of it, he thought he had made a great deal on a nice ride.  There are pictures of all of the vehicles he purchased.  


When I met him, he was driving a teal green Chevy C/K 1500 Sportside pickup, with running boards and a hydraulic lift bed cover.  It was decked out inside and out, but when I first saw it in the race track parking lot, I thought for sure it belonged to a girl.  I laughed at it, and he said, “Whaaaaaaaat?  This is a SWEET ride.”  I’m not sure any other grown man could have pulled it off.  His daughters, Carly and Kari, called it the “Green Taco,” because they thought it looked like a pickup that more affluent Hispanic teenagers in their hometown drove to high school.  But— he loved it, and he got “a great deal on it,” and that was that.


With Richard’s job, he put a lot of miles on vehicles, so about every three to four years, a vehicle was worn out.  Several months ago, his vehicle started having problems requiring expensive repairs, but the car was paid for, so he made them.  Then one day in April, after he had left home to head back to Dallas, he calls....


And the story goes – and if you know Richard well – there’s always a “story,” and the amount of truth in each story varied dramatically, making them all the more interesting.  Anyway - according to Richard - he just so happened to be driving down the highway when his car all of the sudden started making a “bad noise,” and he didn’t think it was going to make it much further.  AND, it also just so happened that when his car started making this bad noise, he was right by a Cadillac dealership in Norman, and he was calling to ask me if I thought he should pull into the dealership and see if he could trade his car in.  I was surprised he was calling for permission, all the more reason to doubt at least SOME of the details.


Thirty minutes later (or even less), he calls asking me to look up the value of a used Lincoln MKZ.  He sends me pictures of it from his phone, and I knew immediately that he would be leaving in it.  It looked like it was a special order just for him - a jet black sedan with windows tinted as dark as the paint.  It wasn’t me at all, but it was definitely him.  Two hours later, he’s driving it off the lot towards Dallas.  It was the only car on the lot that he looked at.  When he called me from it, he had of course in his eyes made the “deal of the century.”  He was so proud of his new ride.  


When he came home in it the next weekend, he had already washed it twice, and I could tell by the look on his face that he loved this car.  He started talking about how “sweet” it was and how he had to name it.  I laughed and told him it looked just like him - a pimp mobile for the [jockey] pimp, so I called it the “Pimpmobile.”  He sometimes called it “Zenyatta” after the beautiful famous Thorougbred race horse, very fitting, and sometimes called it the “Black Ghost.”  I never really understood that name, and never could get an explanation.  He was going to have Zenyatta in some version put on the license plate, but the other jockey agents talked to him about “Pimpin’ Ain’t Easy” on the plate.  After he died, we found the license plate application filled out, it had “PMPN8EZ.”  It hadn’t been mailed off yet.   


It really was perfect for him, and it continuously fed his ego.  I was absolutely shocked at the number of strangers in restaurant and other parking lots that would comment about his car.  It’s a 2007 Lincoln MKZ, and I’m pretty sure it doesn’t have all of the bells and whistles that many Lincolns have, but for some reason, any time he got out of the car in public, you would have thought it was a brand new Lamborghini.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  And, of course, his strut would get a little bit bigger each time someone would comment about it.  His strut was something between “Joe Cool Snoopy” (shades and all) and Rodney Dangerfield.  There was no denying he was strutting, all the while pulling on the collar and shoulder of his shirt because his chest was all of the sudden getting too big for his shirt.  And no matter how irritated or aggravated I might have been with him about something, I could not help but smile and laugh when he began to strut.  


For the first month or even longer, I wasn’t allowed to drive it.  And, since we had moved the large fridge to the garage, no longer allowing two cars to be parked inside, my car was immediately kicked out of the garage.  When I finally was allowed to drive it, there was a long list of instructions - don’t hit a curb, park it at the end of the parking lot away from any other cars, don’t close the doors too hard, watch when you’re backing out, don’t get it dirty, no food or drink in it, and make sure you stop and wash it before you come back....  By the time I heard all of the instructions, I really had no desire to drive it.  Besides, I kept telling him that with the black paint and those black-tinted windows, I was afraid of getting car-jacked and shot in the Pimpmobile!


On the morning Richard died, he drove us to the airport in his treasured car.  It was raining, and storms were coming in, so when he returned home, he parked the car back in the garage, even though I think he and Macy were planning on going out to the track a little bit later.  One of the very first questions Macy asked me that night when I got in and told her that her Daddy wasn’t able to be saved, she asked, “What about Daddy’s car?”  She wanted to know if we could keep his car because he loved it so much, and because he did, she did, too.  His daughter, Carly, and his brother, Bart, both indicated they want to buy the car if I have to sell it.  It was clear to everyone that he loved this car, and we all want to keep it in the family.  


The night after he died, Macy and her cousin, Caylin, went out to his car to listen to music.  When she turned the key, the car was dead.  Really, Richard, you had to have your car die with you????  It’s safe in the garage, so let’s keep it that way??!!    


My neighbors came over this past Sunday and were able to get jumper cables to it, and it turned out to only be a dead battery.  They  charged it up and it was fine.  I guess for all of the love Richard had for it, it just decided to rest a while in his honor.


Sunday evening was the first day Macy and I were able to drive it.  We drove around the neighborhood a few times to charge up the battery.  I’ve driven a SUV for over ten years now, so driving a sedan will take some time to get used to.  I have a feeling I’ll be getting lots of looks in this car in the future, too, but more for how awkward I look getting out of a Pimpmobile.  There was just something about him getting out of the car that made it look so cool. 


The good news is, it is a nice car.  The bad news is, it isn’t paid for, and with Richard being the gambler that he was and also hating the insurance industry, he not surprisingly decided not to take out the credit life insurance policy on it.  Having just purchased the vehicle, this is one time he would have actually “beat the system.”  I’m sure he’d be so mad at himself now for losing that bet, for so many reasons.


His love for a wager on everything in life is one of the things that I loved about him and made him so fun to be around.  But today that has now become a large burden upon me as we were not prepared in any way for his death to a heart attack or whatever “natural cause” it was that took him from us.  And now I’m left to raise Macy in every aspect on my own.  Yes, I have wonderful family and friends to help, but ultimately, the responsibility is all mine.  I know he would have never wanted that.  


Shortly after Macy was born, I bought a little guardian angel pin that I gave him to travel with.  With all of the miles he drove and his maniacal driving habits, I just knew that some day I would lose him on the road.  We actually had accidental life insurance because I truly believed that was the largest possibility for ever losing him premature to old age.  I semi-jokingly told him then that we had a daughter to raise together, and that I couldn’t lose him on the road like that until at least Macy was grown.  That guardian angel pin was tacked to the roof of his car above him in three different consecutive cars, including the Lincoln, and it watched over him and kept him safe for nine years thereafter on the road.  


It never crossed my mind that I needed a guardian angel to pin to his shirt right above his heart.  


And now, it’s suddenly me, driving Richard’s Lincoln MKZ.  I think I'll leave the license plate as is.  I can only imagine the look on the police officer's or trooper's face when the window comes down after being pulled over in the Pimpmobile with "Pimpin' Ain't Easy" on the tag......