I know I promised the next article in the Culture-Building series today, but when I saw today’s Daily Post, The Name’s The Thing, I couldn’t resist.
Like most people, I’ve named several inanimate objects in my life: cars, computers, stuffed animals. However, the object I named that had the most impact on me wasn’t even mine. Skiver was my best friend’s first car.
I, myself, didn’t learn how to drive until the summer after my second year of college (I just didn’t want to learn), so I depended on parents and friends for rides. In high school, one of my best friends drove a Toyota Camry that had previously belonged to one of his parents. The license plate contained the letters “SKV”, from which we derived the name Skiver.
Skiver was a great car and lasted my friend for about five years. Even after I learned how to drive, my friend was more likely to drive when we did things together, so Skiver became our constant companion. Skiver was such a constant in our lives that he went through two changes of license plate without receiving a name change. We even talked at times as though Skiver had a life of his own.
Unfortunately, the name of this article is not without reason. Three years ago, my friend was in a car accident.
I had just gotten off a late-shift at the grocery store when I got on the phone with my friend. The first question out of my mouth after he told me he’d been in an accident was about Skiver. I don’t mean to sound callous by this. You have to remember that I was on the phone with him and knew that he was alive and well enough to talk.
Sadly, Skiver wasn’t so lucky. My friend had been rear-ended as he was coming to a stop on a crowded on-ramp between two highways. While my friend escaped with only chest contusions, Skiver was totaled, accordion-style.
Even up to the end, Skiver was protecting my best friend.
Nowadays, my friend and I are roommates, and we both have hatchback cars: I have a Toyota Yaris named Yari, and he has a Nissan Versa named Vice. Even so, we still remember Skiver fondly and sometimes accidentally call Vice “Skiver”–always immediately apologizing to Vice to prevent him from breaking down in jealousy.
Have any of you ever had similar experiences with an inanimate object you’ve named? If so, I’d love to hear it.