On April 21, 1967, the 100 millionth GM vehicle rolled off the line at the plant in Janesville—a blue two-door Caprice. There was a big ceremony, speeches, the lieutenant governor even showed up. Three days later, another car rolled off that same line. No one gave two craps about her. But they should have. because that 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn out to be the most important car—no, the most important object—in pretty much the whole universe.

The Impala, of course, has all the things other cars have… and a few things they don’t. But none of that stuff’s important. This is the stuff that’s important. The Army man that Sam crammed in the ashtray—it’s still stuck there. The Legos that Dean shoved into the vents. to this day, heat comes on, and you can hear ‘em rattle. These are the things that make the car theirs. Really theirs. Even when Dean rebuilt it from the ground up, he made sure all these little things stayed. ‘Cause it’s the blemishes that made her beautiful.

In between jobs, Sam and Dean would sometimes get a day—sometimes a week, if they were lucky. They’d pass the time lining their pockets. Sam used to insist on honest work, but now he hustles pool, like his brother. They could go anywhere and do anything. They drove a thousand miles for an Ozzy show. Two days for a Jayhawks game. And when it was clear, they’d park her in the middle of nowhere, sit on the hood, and watch the stars… for hours… without saying a word. It never occurred to them that, sure, maybe they never really had a roof and four walls but they were never, in fact, homeless.

Season 5 Review: http://entertainmentocd.blogspot.com/