Nothing I Can Do About it Now

May 7, 2007

Warhorse

Filed under: fred, life, love, narcissus, new car — dregina @ 2:40 pm

I’m currently driving a 1996 Jeep Cherokee. His name is Georgio, and he is/was my first car. I always had this fantasy about replacing the emblem plates so they’d read Jeep Anglo-Saxon, but I guess that’s not going to happen now.

As of this morning, Georgio’s odometer sits at a respectable 175,680 miles.  I put 125,000 of those miles on him, give or take a few. We have been everywhere together.

My Dad guided me through the purchase – helped me find him , test drive him, check the blue book value, etc. He was there when I  attempted, pathetically, to negotiate the sales price, and he didn’t say a word when I failed, miserably, and bought the car anyway. We should have just walked out of the dealership –  but I was too excited, too attached, too impulsive. Dad overlooked my spendthrift, which is, of course, a hallmark of fatherly love.

So, when Georgio started slowly breaking down early last year, my heart just sank. Sank, sank, sank. Georgio is the most tangible connection to my Dad that I have left. I  wasn’t ready for any more loss.

The starter went out.  My mechanic, who is a Saint Come Down From Heaven On A Cloud, taught me to jiggle the shit out of the shifter while turning the key in the ignition.  Thanks to this intervention, the Jeep started fine, no repairs needed. I kept driving.

Georgio’s mileage crept down to about 12 miles to the gallon. Gas prices crept up over  $3.00 a gallon. I realized I was spending at least $200.00 a month on gasoline. I kept driving, and tried not to think about the environment, or my bank account.

He started leaking coolant. I had to add coolant once a month, then once a week, to make sure he had enough. I began to store extra containers of coolant in the back. I kept driving, and really, really tried not to think about the environment.

The rear back tire started losing air. I learned that at many gas stations, air is free. I kept driving, and tried not to think about hydroplaning.

Some poor pathetic asshole junky smashed the passenger side window out and stole the face plate to my tape deck. Which: Dude. C’mon. What are you going to do? Pawn it? Eat it? Smash it into powder and shoot it up? I replaced the window, but not the face plate. I kept driving, and tried not to think about NPR.

One day, a small, tiny voice bubbled up out of my repressed innards. “This car is neither safe nor practical, ” the voice said.

“Shhh,” I said to the voice, but with no car radio, I couldn’t drown it out.

“Your attachment to this car is irrational,” the voice said.

“Shhhh,” I said to the voice.

“175,000 miles,” said the voice. “NPR. $200.00 a week for gas, plus $20.00 for coolant.   HYDROPLANING. GLOBAL WARMING.”

“Alright! Alright! I know! I know! I know!” I said to the voice.

And just like that, I was ready. Georgio is a physical reminder of Dad’s love for me. It will be hard, hard, hard to let him go. But my father spent his entire life teaching me how to make practical and safe decisions – and driving Georgio, at this point, is just barely more practical than riding a donkey.

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4 Comments »

  1. Some for life to know, and for us to ponder, thank you so much for your insight not only on what is around us but in your own life applying to everyday life thank you.

    Gabriel

    Comment by Gabriel — May 7, 2007 @ 2:46 pm

  2. Thankyou for sharing your thoughts with us. It’s odd how we can become so attached to cars…

    Mindedit

    Comment by mindedit — May 7, 2007 @ 4:05 pm

  3. I am terribly sorry to hear about Georgio. It’s always sad to lose something so precious and familiar.

    ~fox

    Comment by fox — May 7, 2007 @ 4:46 pm

  4. i think your dad would be very pleased with your selection as well as your resistence to upgrade.

    ps i’m sure if the junky who stole your face plate knew you (and wasn’t dope sick) they would steal you a new and better one.

    Comment by p$ — May 9, 2007 @ 3:54 pm


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