He’ll take you where…you wanna go…

On a warm spring night, under a stacatto acoustic rhythm, a few slightly inebriated guys chanted that line over and over again. And when it came time for the song’s climax, they hit the perfect rhyme…E-Mi-Li-O!

That’s right. He’ll take you where you wanna go…Emilio. My SUV. Or, in fact…My SDV. My Stripped-Down-Version of an SUV.

I love that fucking vehicle. In just the last 14 months he has accompanied me on some great adventures, and did so without complaint. Until today.

A southern winter storm iced the roads. Emilio being an SDV (a few bucks less on the monthly payment) doesn’t have four-wheel drive.

The details of this morning’s adventure are too humiliating to recount at length. The lowlights are as follows: Stuck on a hill in the middle of a major country thouroughfare, cars stacked up behind waiting for the giant vehicle to move, a man in a suit trying to make an SDV act like an SUV with no chance of success, and a 19 year-old hottie volunteer firefighter coming to the rescue while suit man’s wife watches with muted amusement. And to make matters worse, when the SDV is traded for a Honda Civic, the hill is conquerable.

I still love that fucking vehicle. But he’s got a new chorus to his song:

He’ll take you where…you wanna go…unless there’s snow.

Emilio.

Fuck me.