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I Kind of Love My Car, As Much a Person Can Love a Car


I’m not really a car person, just like I’m not a horse person or a video game person. My car is fine. It’s paid off and kind of trashed, but we are in it together, me and my car. I would like to have a car that has a cleaner interior – a little less dirt, dust, half-chewed skittle spooge, sunscreen sprayed on the ceiling, stickers peeling off the window, etc. Of course, I want the car to start every time I need it to, and drive like it is supposed to. This is a requirement. But I don’t admire cars or fantasize about different cars. I guess I’m kind of committed to my car. Other people see a really cool car and stare, following it with their eyes, straining their necks to see it. I don’t really do that with cars. Now books, yes, I stare, stalk and gawk. I will give myself whiplash to read the title of a book a stranger is reading, but cars don’t really get much attention from me.

But I do like my car, and when I think about how it’s paid off, I kind of love it.  We’ve just accomplished the 100,000 mile mark. Since I got the car when it had 8 miles on it, I of course take all the credit. We’ve been through a lot together. My CD player has suffered through Laurie Berkner Band on continuous loop during Tommy’s toddler years, Wayne Dyer during my self actualization years, and Lady Gaga, The Eagles, Fun, the B-52s, Britney Spears, Hatsune Miku and Dirty Heads during our more recent Let’s Rock Out years. She (if a car is a she) has taken me on road trips to san Luis Obispo, Coos Bay Oregon, Six Flags, Petaluma, Napa, Sacramento, and many camping trips to Fallen Leaf Lake and D.L. Bliss. We have had a broken side view mirror, gotten rear ended, and blew a tire on the 101 near Gilroy. We’ve survived 2 new batteries, and the car, she was patient when it took me 3 years to finally deal with the check engine light situation (I have issues. Scam is all I can say). She is full of beach sand, more than a few throw ups from a carsick boy, spilled sodas, wayward French fries, and Dora the Explorer stickers that seriously DO NOT come off windows.

We worked through a phase of me crying on my way to work every day during a bad break up, when I gripped the steering wheel hard and tried to gather up the strength to go into work, smile, and pretend that my life was not falling apart around me. She was steady when I rushed, driven by parental guilt and a total disregard for speeding tickets, to get my child from daycare when I was missing his little face so bad. And she understands that I perhaps slam on the brakes, gun the engine, and follow a little bit too close now and then. Or like, most of the time actually.

She has carted cousins and friends to the water park, Roller Kingdom, Artown concerts, Pah Rah park, Galena Creek, the children’s museum, and the mall, the mall, the mall. She has taken me to classes at UNR, where I paid way too much money to park her. She got me to my work, my play, my writing dates, and my classes.

And she has seen the boy grow up. When her interior was still soft, clean and shiny, the little dude was just brand new. He hadn’t even gotten past ten pounds on the scale yet. I love the car, is all I’m saying. I love that it’s paid off. And while I’m not a car person, and I wouldn’t turn down a free new one, this car and I will keep on keeping on. Maybe we’ll hit the 200,000 mile mark before we part.

One Comment leave one →
  1. 08/11/2014 6:48 pm

    Totally. Her name is Journey. And paid off just makes me love her more!

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