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So... my car is gone. Or I guess it’s not my car anymore. Phil’s meeting the new owner today to drop off the car and pick up the check, so I guess I’ve seen the last of it. I’m trying to cancel the XM radio subscription for it, but our internet connection is down at work. And I tried calling 1-800-XM-RADIO, but they’ve got one of those stupid automated attendants that requires you to announce everything you want to do... but my office is silent right now, and I don’t feel like doing that. I’ll try later.
Anyway, I went out to the car this morning to get the XM serial number so I could cancel the service. Phil asked if I was going out to say goodbye. And I wasn’t, really. I mean, I loved the car (did love? Still love?), but it never excited me so much that it took on a persona of its own. Even with a voice like Nancy, the teutonic hausfrau who kept insisting that I needed to make a u-turn. It was a great car. The Bluetooth worked great, the XM worked great (so much that I never listened to CDs anymore), the memory seats were flawless. It didn’t feel so much like a car as a bionic extension of my personality, and I’m sure I’m going to miss that. But it didn’t feel like an old friend.
I’ve only ever really had trouble saying goodbye to one car: my first. A 1971 VW squareback in Twinkie Yellow. I felt odd parting with the 91 Jetta and the 94 Cherokee (totaled in a wreck), but I didn’t feel the need to say goodbye. And I didn’t really say goodbye to my 530 either, mainly because I imagined it all-grown-up into the 740. Maybe that was a defense mechanism. Maybe I’ll miss the 740 in a week or two, when I keep looking out the window expecting to see it in the driveway.
I’m sure I’ll miss my Triumph whenever it goes. That car took on a name (“Trevor”) that just fit perfectly, and it assumed the personality to boot. He’s a lot of fun. That one’s gonna be tough.
So yeah. I’m OK (at least for now), and I don’t know what the new car is going to be. Maybe just an automotive appliance. Stay tuned to see what happens next.
Anyway, I went out to the car this morning to get the XM serial number so I could cancel the service. Phil asked if I was going out to say goodbye. And I wasn’t, really. I mean, I loved the car (did love? Still love?), but it never excited me so much that it took on a persona of its own. Even with a voice like Nancy, the teutonic hausfrau who kept insisting that I needed to make a u-turn. It was a great car. The Bluetooth worked great, the XM worked great (so much that I never listened to CDs anymore), the memory seats were flawless. It didn’t feel so much like a car as a bionic extension of my personality, and I’m sure I’m going to miss that. But it didn’t feel like an old friend.
I’ve only ever really had trouble saying goodbye to one car: my first. A 1971 VW squareback in Twinkie Yellow. I felt odd parting with the 91 Jetta and the 94 Cherokee (totaled in a wreck), but I didn’t feel the need to say goodbye. And I didn’t really say goodbye to my 530 either, mainly because I imagined it all-grown-up into the 740. Maybe that was a defense mechanism. Maybe I’ll miss the 740 in a week or two, when I keep looking out the window expecting to see it in the driveway.
I’m sure I’ll miss my Triumph whenever it goes. That car took on a name (“Trevor”) that just fit perfectly, and it assumed the personality to boot. He’s a lot of fun. That one’s gonna be tough.
So yeah. I’m OK (at least for now), and I don’t know what the new car is going to be. Maybe just an automotive appliance. Stay tuned to see what happens next.
posted by Ben at
9:25 AM
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