I took the ol’ girl in for an oil change on Saturday only to be given some terrible news. After 17 years, nearly 13 of those spent with moi, the Civic has all but reached its end.
Many of you know that I’ve been toying with the idea of going car-less a.k.a. sans car, of no wheels, without my ride, ever since I got back in May and realized just how much of a financial drain a 1991 vehicle really is. I’ve been taking the Skytrain, I’ve looked at the Co-operative Auto Network and have even joined Zipcar on a pay-as-you-go basis. Hell, I’ve even looked at possibly donating my car to charity.
But still, I kept her.
Now here I am, eight months later, forced to choose between paying an $800 repair bill for brakes and tires which, I really can’t afford, or just letting her go.
Is it just me? Why am I still questioning what needs to be done? As Matt said, it is an inevitability that car and owner must eventually be parted. So then, why is this decision so hard to make?
I came across something most endearing. I was looking for images for this particular post, and as my search parameters I’d entered, “goodbye car”. Here is a sample of some the captions which were returned:
Many of you know that I’ve been toying with the idea of going car-less a.k.a. sans car, of no wheels, without my ride, ever since I got back in May and realized just how much of a financial drain a 1991 vehicle really is. I’ve been taking the Skytrain, I’ve looked at the Co-operative Auto Network and have even joined Zipcar on a pay-as-you-go basis. Hell, I’ve even looked at possibly donating my car to charity.
But still, I kept her.
Now here I am, eight months later, forced to choose between paying an $800 repair bill for brakes and tires which, I really can’t afford, or just letting her go.
Is it just me? Why am I still questioning what needs to be done? As Matt said, it is an inevitability that car and owner must eventually be parted. So then, why is this decision so hard to make?
I came across something most endearing. I was looking for images for this particular post, and as my search parameters I’d entered, “goodbye car”. Here is a sample of some the captions which were returned:
- He was a really nice car …
- … my old car. Goodbye, Old Friend.
- Good-bye, old car.
- ... goodbye to my car. Very sad …
- Good-bye, the greatest car …
- Goodbye to our sweet car …
- Goodbye, my pretty car!
- It was hard to say goodbye …
- You were a good car.
This reinforced my belief that a car isn’t just some utility - although if it starts, runs and can take you from point A to point B, then its utilitarian purpose is fulfilled, this is true. But there’s an essence, some quintessential connection which, over time, evolves between vehicle and owner.
It’s that connection which is the reason why people nickname their cars, why they take pictures of them to send to their family and friends. It’s the same reason that compels others to keep a set of keys when they do finally say goodbye to their beloved vehicles.
You know exactly what I’m talking about. We’ve all seen this, even if not everyone believes it’s true or they don’t share this feeling when it comes to their own cars.
But I’m not here to try and define it. I’d rather not, actually. Because after 13 years, it’s not easy to say goodbye and I really have no desire to dwell too long or lament that which cannot be changed.
All I have to say now, I say to my Civic …
You were a good little car. You drove me nuts sometimes, but you were still good. We’ve been across the country together, and have been to many, many places between here and Ontario.
We’ve had good times, and some bad. I’ll never forget that time we blocked in those stupid punks who kept parking in our assigned spot at O’Neill, or when we tried talking our way out of that speeding ticket on the way up to Saskatoon. Those were the days!
How about when Jen and Heather came to visit us in southwestern Ontario, and we cranked up the stereo and belted out Cecilia by Simon and Garfunkel at the top of our lungs? Good times.
I’ll always remember our three day trip to Edmonton to visit Lisa K, when we were so lonely in Vancouver during those first few months. Or when we went home for the summer because we had nothing better to do. And what about that time I locked the keys out of the car along the highway? Where were we … somewhere in Alberta, right? Thank God for CAA!
Please don’t feel bad about getting that flat tire on the way out to Langley - it really wasn’t your fault. And for all those times you wouldn’t start? I know you were just feeling a bit moody and temperamental, so I forgive you.
You were a good little car. I hope you’ve had just as much fun as I have. Thank you for all you’ve given me.
It’s that connection which is the reason why people nickname their cars, why they take pictures of them to send to their family and friends. It’s the same reason that compels others to keep a set of keys when they do finally say goodbye to their beloved vehicles.
You know exactly what I’m talking about. We’ve all seen this, even if not everyone believes it’s true or they don’t share this feeling when it comes to their own cars.
But I’m not here to try and define it. I’d rather not, actually. Because after 13 years, it’s not easy to say goodbye and I really have no desire to dwell too long or lament that which cannot be changed.
All I have to say now, I say to my Civic …
You were a good little car. You drove me nuts sometimes, but you were still good. We’ve been across the country together, and have been to many, many places between here and Ontario.We’ve had good times, and some bad. I’ll never forget that time we blocked in those stupid punks who kept parking in our assigned spot at O’Neill, or when we tried talking our way out of that speeding ticket on the way up to Saskatoon. Those were the days!
How about when Jen and Heather came to visit us in southwestern Ontario, and we cranked up the stereo and belted out Cecilia by Simon and Garfunkel at the top of our lungs? Good times.
I’ll always remember our three day trip to Edmonton to visit Lisa K, when we were so lonely in Vancouver during those first few months. Or when we went home for the summer because we had nothing better to do. And what about that time I locked the keys out of the car along the highway? Where were we … somewhere in Alberta, right? Thank God for CAA!
Please don’t feel bad about getting that flat tire on the way out to Langley - it really wasn’t your fault. And for all those times you wouldn’t start? I know you were just feeling a bit moody and temperamental, so I forgive you.
You were a good little car. I hope you’ve had just as much fun as I have. Thank you for all you’ve given me.
1 comment:
totally understand! i have not had my car for as long as yours but the emotional bond was there.
i knew I was connected to my little Jeep but didn't realize it was so strong until Saturday when DB and I went looking for a new car. There were used Jeep Liberties for sale and I found myself drawn to sit in all of them...got so choked up, almost shed a tear (we had to sell the car in NY before embarking to Dubai).
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