The End of an Era

You all know that I cry easily. I laugh easily too- which is (might be) an alright balance. Today has been a highly emotional day, full of more tears than laughter because one of our great forces is no longer with us. Yes, the Pathfinder has dug in its heels, and refuses to move. I knew it was coming- I have even been researching (other) cars. I have joked about the Pathfinder's 'Ghetto- ness', have likened him to a donkey and am quite sure he is ready and entitled to his pasture in the sky. I knew it was coming. In fact, yesterday, (lest you forget that I am indeed the coolest), he insisted on going through his enire throttling moan of various alarm noises while I attempted to turn the key to start the ignition. All of the horrid tones of his horn. For a very long time. This all happened WHILE I was at Lewis Ginter, an ultimately (and notoriously) silent place. The other gardeners looked on at me like stooty librarians- as if the only thing I had accomplished that day was to disturb the peace. That car roared on and protested so very loudly as I tried and tried to turn the key, and I realized that I had taken each and every easy start until now for granted. Indeed, I was not prepared for this.

Le Pathfinder, (who shall remain nameless), has over 157,000 miles on its tired frame. At an average of 35 miles per hour, that means a total of 4,486 hours I (or someone- in fact most of you) have spent behind the wheel . That winds up being about 187 days, at 24 hours a day. (Not even including the nights I slept in the plentiful back seat space while we were still and it was cold outside.) Six months (total) out of my life- 13 years including the times we were not moving. Four trips across the country. 11 house moves. Getting me out of a big sand pit in New Mexico when I took a 'short cut'. Dirt and dogs and boys. Up any fire road Colorado could put in our path. Trusty old thing. I really, really loved that car.

What is to become of him? Well, I expect he will pay my (over)dues to NPR, and that they will provide him a proper rest. I will go out in the morning, count his bumper stickers and various scrapes, and thank him for being there for me. Oh, man- I am really sad to let him go.