And in keeping with today’s general tone of melancholy, I give you this article about one of my all time favorite movies, The Iron Giant.
When my friend Renee and I drove from Detroit to Las Vegas at the end of 1999 we set a tiny Iron Giant on the dashboard of my Ford Escort. He was our mascot for the drive and often when the flatness of America would start to get to us either she or I would pick him up and say to the other in her best giant robot type voice, “I AM NOT A GUN!” And weary from the drive we would both burst into road weary giggles. We also made up alter egos for ourselves as cousins from Ohio. I think my name was Vera.