Requiem for a Fighter

No, my car "Little Red" hasn't died, but after tomorrow, she won't really be mine anymore. Just so you know, it's sort of tradition in my family to personify our possessions. I have an iPod called Duke and my laptop's name is Blinky.

Anyway, Nathan and I have been talking for sometime now about getting me a new car because Little Red has been falling apart at a much faster rate than usual. My uncles have been looking for something to do with my grandmother's car which, apart from being four years newer than Little Red, has been kept in a garage and is in generally much better condition.

So, we're buying Grandma's car and Little Red is going up for sale. I'd like to say a few words about her, if I may. She was in pretty rough condition when I got her from another family member, the summer before my senior year of college. She hadn't been driven in a year and needed a new catalytic converter. Within a year she also needed an entirely new brake line. Her speedometer doesn't work reliably, so I have absolutely no idea how many miles are actually on her and the gas gauge doesn't work either. I've had to replace a power steering belt, have a new defrost fan put in and a new starter on top of other things. Yeah, I've complained about her and we've had our spats.

Despite all this, I'm still grateful for her because almost without fail, she roars to life every morning, if she's covered in snow and has been sitting for a weekend, or if she has been run off her feet. My whole life I have really loved only three vehicles, my parents' old Ford Contour, which we called "Stumpy." Stumpy was even more freakishly reliable than Little Red. I also loved a 1969 Chevelle owned by my good friend Travis, and Little Red.

I will miss my old friend. But I hope, even though she's 13 years old, she will give someone else at least a year or two of faithful service.