TEXARKANA MAGAZINE
T here are few milestones in life that hit harder in high school, emotionally and, in my case, literally (you’ll understand why soon) than getting your first car. You clutch your learner’s permit like a golden ticket, praying Driver’s Ed taught you enough not to take out the neighbor’s mailbox. (For the record, I did not. I almost did. But I didn’t. I just took out bumpers. Plural.) My first car was a blue Nissan Rogue named Blue Ivy. I was 17 and maybe a bit dramatic, but Blue Ivy was so much more than just a car to me. She meant freedom. Power. She was the first place I ever screamed “Roman’s Revenge” by Nicki Minaj and Eminem at full volume, with the windows down. I felt like no one in the world had ever felt anything deeper than me. She was the first thing I ever truly paid for on my own. My mom made it clear early on that if I wanted something, I had to work for it. The car payment was on me. The insurance was on me. And I love that she insisted things needed to be that way, because not only did that payment teach me a lot, but that car taught me even more… including the fact that fries in the floorboard are not worth a rear-end collision at a red light. Parker (my brother) yelling “BAILEY!” as I slammed on the brakes will live rent-free in my mind for eternity. Sorry again to the car in front of me, my fries really were not worth it. Then came Black Beauty, another Nissan Rogue. Sleek, mysterious, and she gave main character energy… until she too met her fate behind someone else’s bumper while my friend Hannah and I were vibing a little too hard to “I Hope” by Gabby Barrett. Amid debris and deployed airbags, I realized I really should start a GoFundMe for every car I’ve rear-ended: “Learning the Hard Way: The Bailey Gravitt Story.” And now, there is my sweet baby girl, Kandi. She’s been with me since 2019. Apple red, loyal, ride-or-die, the only girl who’s stuck with me this long. Kandi’s been through it. She has taken me to job interviews, church on Sunday mornings, and Whataburger at midnight. She’s seen me cry so hard I had to pull over, and she’s seen me laugh until my stomach hurt. She has seen every version of me, and somehow, she still cranks up every morning with that same purr. That’s my girl.
GOOD EVENING TXK COLUMN BY BAILEY GRAVITT
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