| Death of an R-Package (or, Thank God for Good Samaritans) |
| In Toad's warped perspective, the 1994 R-Package was an exceedingly desirable Special Edition Miata, nothing less than a "homologation special" produced by Mazda so that the Miata could generate useful copy in the enthusiast press by dominating its Showroom Stock class in SCCA racing - which the car did handily. When Toad read that the whiners at Sports Car International Magazine were writing that "It is categorically not a machine for everyone...it's built for lunatics", the die was cast. Toad MUST buy one. And so he did, a brand-new 1994 R-Package in anonymous white. The Mazda dealership salesman who sold the car was an ignoramus without a clue as to his product. So, just what is an R-Package? The best explanation of the concept and the car is to be found in the August 1994 issue of "Sports Car International": Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Unfortunately, Toad's particular R-Package (one of only 1,218 such Miatas produced by Mazda in the 1994 model year) met an untimely and inglorious demise on 15 April 2004, with 73,400 miles on the clock. The environs around Toad Hall do indeed have a significant population of Good Samaritans. That Thursday morning, Toad encountered one. He had stopped at a red light while headed south in the slow lane on the aptly named Whiskey Road, at the Dougherty Road intersection, with several cars ahead of him at the light. There was no one behind him when he stopped. His waiting was shortly interrupted by what sounded like a bomb exploding a few inches behind his right ear. When he recovered enough to look forward, he saw that the Honda van that had been in front of him by about three feet was now approximately where the radiator lived in the Miata. When he looked in the rear view mirror, there was a full-sized SUV or pickup truck grille where the forward edge of the trunk usually is. It gradually dawned on him that something really unpleasant had occurred. He was only dimly aware of what happened next. Someone leaned in the window to ask if he was hurt. In response, Toad ran his right hand over the back of his head and held a cupped palm of blood out the window. Toad's hope was that the enquirer was the person who ran into him, thereby giving the culprit some appreciation for what he had caused. Seconds or minutes later (time did not exist for the state Toad was in), someone else handed in a large towel that had been wetted down and told him to put it on the injury at the back of his head. This cold, wet, fluffy towel was one of the most wonderfully soothing things Toad have ever been given. He held it to his wound and just totally relaxed � maybe it brought back an echo of the baby�s blanket from decades earlier. Toad didn�t even know if the Good Samaritan was a he or a she. The person probably came somewhere from the cluster of shops at that intersection. Whoever it was, Toad sent forth many silent thanks for that small kindness. That person did more good than perhaps he or she realized. Seconds or minutes later (you know), the EMT folks were there to extract Toad from the remains of the Miata and strap him to that famous board that he had seen many times on TV, but never experienced personally. He felt right at ease, being in their effective and professional hands. Toad felt a little bad that he couldn�t answer the EMT�s question as to how old he was. Somehow, at that moment his brain just couldn�t compute that number. Toad did remember a slightly incoherent conversation in the ambulance with one of the EMTs, something about the EMT's father's classic �60s muscle car that someone came all the way from England to buy. The EMT was obviously a kindred spirit car nut. Or maybe he was just trying to keep Toad talking. Three hours later, Toad was walking out of the hospital with a bunch of stitches and a couple of staples in the back of his head, and a fractured sternum about which nothing can be done (with time and constant sharp pain, that breast bone will heal itself). The next several mornings were particularly brutal for Toad. (continued on the next page) |
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