All that remains is a memory. (And a really old one at that. Taken April 2008.)
It’s been on our minds for a while.
Last summer when we paid $6,000 to repair the Bug-mobile, Mr. Right swore up and down that it would be replaced within a year. “I don’t trust it” he would recite every time we drove further than 20 miles away from home.
It is true that we invested yearly to prolong its demise.
It is true that those tires seemed routinely not balanced.
It is true that the “check engine” light was on for most of its life with us.
Was.
Occasionally we would notice the glowing “check engine” words disappear and Mr. Right would recant his oath. Our fickle Bug-mobile would hear this and the orange glow would flicker back on.
So there we were this summer with a pretty looking clunker and there was Obama with promises he couldn't keep.
Cash for Clunkers. Trade in your clunker (the bug-mobile) and receive a cushy rebate towards a new vehicle purchase.
And since we are hefty tax payers, and that “check engine” light wasn’t turning off anytime soon, we decided to take action.
Unfortunately we did not qualify. The new vehicle we choose to replace the old vehicle with was a slightly used vehicle. Mr. Right bought me a Honda Pilot.
And thus the van’s life was saved.
Temporarily.
Because then Mr. Right looked at his 19 year old sedan and had the feeling that it just would not last more than a year or two. THIS was the opportune time to replace it and THUS qualify us for money in exchange for the termination of our clunker.
I have the feeling we might do the same for family members too.
It is not a coincidence that the day before the green van drove its green mile the “check engine” light turned off by itself.
“It’s too late now!” Mr. Right ruthlessly laughed as he hunched over the steering wheel and gunned it into the Toyota dealership.
Insert side note:
Our dear Mr. Powell of Toyota of Kirkland hooked us up and boy did we get incredible treatment. Like it was almost a pleasure to sit there for four hours and sign papers and buy a new car.
Almost.
As if integrity and helpfulness were not enough, Mrs. Powell drove out of her way and took our children to the pool while we waited. Come to think of it, I don't think I ever gave her an appropriate thank you.
Service I tell you. Service with a capital S.
Four hours and four minutes later we brought the Bug-mobile around front to exchange it for a bright blue Corolla.
The van sat nearby, like a dog that we don’t really like but are comfortably familiar with, panting in the heat and awaiting its fate.
Suddenly Mr. Right didn’t have the heart to watch. “Exactly what is going to happen to it?” he asked Mr. Powell.
“By law,” said Mr. Powell,” we are required to pour liquid glass, liquid sodium silicate, into the engine and then start the vehicle until it dies.” He noticed the horror in Mr. Right’s eyes and in a gentler voice said, “It won’t feel any pain.”
So while Mr. Right salved his conscience by exploring his fun commuter car, I watched no less than five employees ask one another why a Green Mazda van was sitting in the parking lot.
I watched as they would receive the answer, “it’s a cash for clunkers” with shock, and a double-take, and a quick walk around inspection.
I smugly felt like saying, it looks pretty my friends, but all that glitters is not gold.
Well do I remember the time I was ticketed because the check engine light would not turn off and I could not re-register the van.
Well do I remember all the hours I sat in a hot, cramped sedan with twin babies and a toddler, waiting for an expensive prognosis for the ill van.
But too, well do I remember being pregnant with those twins and taking that toddler to Georgia to buy the van,
and how I got sick on the drive down and vomited out the window of Squishy’s car…and she made Vassee clean it up.
That should have been my sign.
In the end the Bug-mobile sort of served its purpose, but as a friend told me, “There’s something to be said for a vehicle that gets you safely from point A to point B.”
So true, and now I can go from A to B with style.
The only thing left to resolve:
What will I name my new darling?