Ode to my car

This is to my old car, my 1994 Pontiac Sunbird.

My mom aided in buying my car for me and when we got it, it had 102, 271 miles on her. That was in 2002.

Here we are, 10 years and 150,000+ miles later, she sits as a mess in the driveway, days away from selling her to the scrapyard.

My son is so broken up over the car, he’s cried. It’s all he’s known. We’ve had it 10 years, he’s turning nine.

I can’t say I will cry when I finally sell it to the scrapyard, but it’s been through a lot and put me through a lot.

I pushed it hard for those 10 years, real hard when I drove it when I worked for the paper in Caro. It went on my playoff trips – to Cheboygan, to DeWitt, to Big Rapids and so many trips in and around the Thumb they’re countless. I flew the old back roads in the Thumb when they were clear and bounced through the snowdrifts to Owen-Gage on a crazy boys basketball night in December.

In Wisconsin, it got me to and from La Crosse several times over and all over western Wisconsin, even into Minnesota a few times.

Admittedly, I didn’t take care of it like I should have. It’s fallen into such disrepair that it’s forcing me to get a new car. The repairs cost more than the car is worth and they’ve mounted to a point where the scrapyard is the only place can and will take it.

But that car got us all sorts of places, my family and I. And I think back at all of the rides my kids and I had in it, too, going to events for sports, for games, for team photos, for interviews, they’re going to miss it, too.

She had some giddy-up to her. If I needed to put the pedal down, she responded and she got moving.

But beyond the breakdown, the pressure is on to get something bigger – not a van or even a minivan – but a small extended cab truck or an SUV. It’s completely counter to the message that the media is sending out to us thanks to the government – buy a small car because of gas prices.

I don’t care about gas mileage. I don’t care about the cost of gas to fill it. I care about taking my family of four on a weeklong vacation with everyone comfortable for the ride. No matter what people try to pound into our heads, I’m concerned about the growing kids I have in the back, how long and lanky they’ll be, and that we’ll need to pack our camping gear with us.

Let the car shopping continue.

And let the memories of my blueish-greenish 94 Pontiac Sunbird.

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