Sometimes life just seamlessly transitions into a different chapter. And then sometimes, there are very distinctive breaks in chapters that can be a bit hard to take. This weekend was one of those. Forgive me if this doesn't follow the normal format and rambles a little; the symbolism hits close to home for me. So, in typical weekend intelligence fashion, here are the highlights.Christine, my convertible, had been having trouble since the minor accident I was in late last year. Nothing serious, mind you, but she was pretty banged up. It was a real blow to the ego that my lovely car had taken a hit. I had saved up money to do repairs, but thought better of spending it on a car when there were so many other more important things to do, namely paying for Colin's adoption. She just started to slide from there. Combined with some shady and underhanded dealings with maintenance done at WalMart (I realize it's my fault for doing them at WalMart, but they didn't have to be deceptive crooks about it) that ruined her oil pan, she was having some real issues starting and idling.
Well, this weekend, the problems got extreme, so I took time off on Monday to get her down to the service center to have her looked at. She needed, among many, many other things, at least a replacement of the oil pan, gasket and plug. They quoted me $840 for it. Then they quoted me all the other work she would need to get her to driving like she did before the accident. All in all, just shy of $3000.
$3000... For a car that was going on 9 years old and 90k miles. For a car that I still owed $5000 on and could only get $2000 for. I remember when she had 30k... But the fact of the matter is that she was becoming a money sink and was quickly also becoming unsafe to drive. I have no doubt that if I would have taken Christine to Austin during week, she would have broken down. As much as it pained me to admit it, it was time to trade her in.
Since I only had that one day off, and she was having trouble getting from place to place as it was, D took the day off and we both went to Carmax. We'd had a very good experience there before, so we decided to try it again. She came to pick me up, bring me to the dealer to get the convertible, and we both went down to Carmax.
It became clear in the first half hour there that we were looking for two different things. I was looking for something to replace Christine with that would be just accommodating enough for our family, maybe a little larger for any additions. D was looking at minivans. Big minivans. Now, in fairness, we've been seriously considering, if not trying for, an addition to the family. But since we've had a Vue (first Summer, then Lucky), I've had the freedom to also have a fun car.
The problem is that our family is already starting to get too large for poor Lucky. Going anywhere of moderate distance in the Vue with all 4 of us (not to mention Suzie) is difficult in the Vue. Colin spends most of the time curled up in the fetal position or otherwise contorted around luggage. Visiting grandparents in El Paso, Kansas or even the East Coast would be difficult now, and simply wouldn't work with a second car seat in the Vue.
Long story short, after spending 4 hours on the lot, several test drives and some debate, we traded in Christine for a 2010 Chrysler Town & Country. It's a behemoth of a vehicle, especially considering what I was driving before. I have to climb up into the driver seat; it feels more like I'm driving an RV than a van. It has three rows of seating: two front seats, two middle seats and a bench with three spots in the back. And all seats except the driver and passenger seats fold up into the floor, creating a cavernous cargo space. To be sure, it's a beautiful minivan, and at a price that was less than half that of the current year model. However, it was still a minivan...
It was a real hit to my ego. After all, I'd already given up my first convertible (Elizabeth, or Libby for short) for a nice, sensible family car. I had to ask myself what it was that hurt so much about letting go of Christine. I had already prepared to do that in February, after some of the problems began to surface. I was planning on replacing her with something similar. So it really wasn't about the car itself. It's way more about image, both outside and self. I see myself as being a young, fun-loving free spirit with a badass stereo, and I want others to see me that way. Most of the friends I've met here in Texas have never known me before having a convertible. And now I'd be driving around a vehicle that way more family than fun. I guess it's the one thing I fear most in life: to wake up one day and wonder what the hell happened to all the fun and joy in my life.
But you know what? Despite all the assholes, crappy jobs, low wages and other bullshit life has hurled my way, I still haven't reached that day. The few regrets I have are easy to roll with. It never mattered the clothes I wore or car I drove: I brought the fun. I still bring the fun. For starters: I can fit a full sized air mattress in the back with all the seats stowed. Fun times anywhere. :P I can also fit in a full camping setup, with all three kegs of cider and CO2 tank, without cramming. You better believe Austin work roadtrips will include a cooler of beer and a fishing pole. And I still have the stereo, subs, 6x9's and amp...
What, you didn't REALLY think I was going to sell the stereo, too, did ya?
There's not a single reason the same van that hauls kids on long road trips can't also haul the party. It's all about who's behind the wheel. Eventually this phase of life will pass, just like Christine. Hell, I had given up Libby, my first convertible, for a nice, family car, only to get Christine when it was feasible again. These things aren't permanent. So as sure as the hair on my head is turning grey, the time will tick down on this phase, too. Hey, maybe next time I can afford an even better one.
But in the mean time, she'll need a name...
