RIP Mama Skank

RIP Silver Sheila

My mom claims I was an extremely stubborn child and refused to learn the alphabet, so I was held back. As the oldest friend in my group, I got my license first and inherited Mama Skank, a 1990 purply blue Mazda Mini van. My friends drew a marker mural on the roof as I drove us all around Austin. This was my peak cool. You can imagine the disappointment when Mama Skank tragically died in the parking lot of Barton Springs, a fresh aquifer pool downtown where everyone hung out. 

​
Since Mama Skank wasn’t my fault, my generous loving dad gave me his old CRV. Two weeks later, I crashed it while belting On My Own. That one was my fault. That summer, I lifeguarded overtime to buy a new car. Silver Sheila saw me all the way to the University of Texas to study acting. One morning, I walked to my parked Sheila to find out she had been smashed by a drunk driver in a high speed chase with cops the night before. Eventually Drunky Pants' insurance paid for my new car, but I started to wonder if car ownership was right for me. 
​
Now, I live somewhere where it’s almost impossible to own a car. I will happily wait for the train or Citi Bike a couple of miles, if it means not driving. My one-woman podcast editing and voice over business, Voiced By Katie,  allowed me to afford to live in this gritty, chaotic, loud, amazing city for three years and counting. Sure, I love my friends, the opportunities, theatre, the culture, changing seasons, and everything else that makes this city amazing. But I think what’s really keeping me here and the real reason I can’t see myself leaving, is the thought of ever owning a car again.