Recently my husband and I had a conversation about buying a new car for me. I didn’t get my hopes up, rightfully so, because it didn’t take long for him to say, “You know, for about $300, I think I can keep your car running another year and then we can get a new one.” Umm, that’s what he said last year. And I’m pretty sure the year before that as well… For someone who’s not “into” cars, Andy is a self-taught, amazingly crack mechanic in his spare time who has definitely saved us thousands of dollars and kept my car going year after year (after year). Not only does he like saving money, he gets a lot of satisfaction out of researching and solving problems, and I think he also likes “telling the guys”, like some guys brag about the big fish they caught, or the amazing golf putt they sank.
Yes, I do drive a 1997 Dodge Grand aravan with 184,208 miles on it. (That’s right—aravan. It was once a Caravan, but one day last year when I didn’t pull in far enough in the garage, the automatic garage door scraped off the “C” as it was closing.) And yes, it still runs, but, when you enter your Golden Years, you should have some class, for goodness sakes! I mean, my car, like Betty White, is getting downright embarrassing in its old age. (Did she really have to cuss so much on SNL two weeks ago? I think I’m scarred for life…). And calling my car embarrassing is a big statement from someone who was once proud to drive it as a badge of uncoolness. But it’s now gotten beyond uncool. For starters, it’s dented on almost every panel from one thing or another (runaway shopping carts, angry kids, hail, carport posts that used to “get in the way” when I was backing out…). And the inside? Fuh-getta-bout-it. The back seat rattles like a pair of loose false teeth. Recently, when the ceiling fabric came unglued in one small area and started to gap, the kids thought it would be fun to pull it some more—so now it hangs down so much, it looks like a Bedouin tent inside my car, and the “tent” literally billows when I put the windows down to let in fresh spring air. I’ve been seriously thinking of playing the soundtrack to Slumdog Millionaire on the car stereo and burning some incense to go with it. Maybe I’ll pick up my teen and her friends at high school one day and just say “Om” when they open the doors. Maybe I could even hand them all finger cymbals…
And if I choose not to put down my windows, and turn on the air conditioner instead, the car screeches intermittently. Inside and out. And I mean, it’s like the loudest nails-on-a blackboard sound you could ever imagine. Like what a pterodactyl must have sounded like as it swooped in. Like the music from “Psycho” on acid…
A guy almost fell off his bike as I screeched past him yesterday. The sound stopped another guy, previously hell-bent on running into CVS to buy cigarettes, in his tracks.
Okay, I’m sure part of that $300 to fix up the car will include the air conditioner. But what will break down next? I’m not sure I wanna know. At this point, it’s always something. And Mechanic Dad has to squeeze car repair into our usually busy weekends, so things naturally take awhile to get done.
I’m thinking about not driving the aravan anymore and walking/biking everywhere or taking the bus in protest. But my husband really wouldn’t be affected by that, since he works many miles away… and I do so much driving during the afternoon, chauffering kids. He’d probably say “Great! Put the kids on bikes, too!” As Dallas’ weather keeps getting more and more uncomfortable and my teen’s allergies get worse and worse, I don’t think getting back to nature is the answer….
The kids laugh when I joke with them that someday, I’m going to pull up to their school and my car is just going to fall apart, cartoon style, all at once, with nothing left but me in the driver’s seat and the steering wheel in my hands. Maybe then I could get a new car…
Nah! Because a dismantled car would give Andy an even better fish tale: “ I rebuilt our minivan– from scratch!!!!” J
Well, it’s a well-used, well-loved car that has served you faithfully for years. Nothing wrong in feeling sad about letting it go, but nothing wrong about letting it go either! You probably need a upgrade as it will get more and more expensive to maintain.
Nice comparison! I hope you car doesn’t curse though, it’d be weird :p But in any case, it’s okay to want to change your car given its venerable old age. I’m sure you’ll find something that you can afford and that has everything you need!
Honestly, if you can afford a new car, I’d say go for it. If you could make a Caravan last for almost 200,000 miles, I think it spent its useful life. Maybe you next car will last as long as the last one, given your husband’s skill!
Hahaha, as long as the car doesn’t start swearing you’re fine! Do you really want to get rid of it though? If you really wanted to you wouldn’t let your husband just fix it up, and given its condition it’s not really a luxury to get a new van.
Maybe there is some way you can arrange for your husband to have to take the aravan, and have something fall off, so he gets the message? Good luck to you!
Thanks for another hilarious post! I’m keeping my fingers crossed that your husband caves and gets a new minivan!
That’s really funny! I hope you convince your husband to get a new one though, because it seems this one might give up sooner rather than later. And what’s wrong with getting a new car anyway?