The first car Tim and I owned was sort of like a grandpa. It was awkward in transit, emitted excessive gas, and occasionally died in the snow. It finally petered out on us after two years of subtle neglect and patient waiting...but in the end it only fetched us $80 at the junk yard. Thanks a lot, grandpa!
Finding ourselves car-less and alone, we experienced a period of isolation and longing toward all cars. In our loneliness we took to walking, biking, or riding the bus. We began to consider buying another car. We knew that owning a car would be very rewarding, but we also feared the commitment and responsibilities that attend that reward. Deep down, however, we knew something was missing in our lives—and that something was a car.
After two years of searching, we finally bought another car—a 2001 Saturn L200. It was white and so innocent looking. It was our baby. Immediately, however, we felt the responsibility that comes with being the parents of a new car. The car had many problems. First of all, its “check engine” light was always on—almost like a colicky infant that is constantly bothering you. “You're fine!” we said to the car. But it wasn't. Our baby would periodically cease to function. We had to perform battery detachment and re-application several times. We began to see we were unfit to be car parents. Indeed, when we changed residences, we actually abandoned our baby in our old parking lot for several months. Eventually, however, we decided it was worth it to invest the money to get this little car to function properly again. First thing we did was bring it back to life--as the several months of sitting with no food or water had killed its battery. Then, we took it to the car doctor, and after several more months of car therapy, we were finally able to bring it home—a healthy, properly functioning car at last. We even gave it a license plate.
Today, we have settled comfortably into our role as car owners. We regularly feed it gasoline. When it needs its oil changed, it shines a little light, and we know it's time—like a baby crying for a diaper change. We understand now that a car needs nurture and attention, and we believe we have grown into the mature custodians our baby deserves. This little car has taught so much. We are so grateful toward it--but if it breaks down on our drive down to southern Utah, it's staying there.
- Carly
1 comment:
Interesting story. An old man in my home ward took his car to work, and was considering buying a car for his wife.
being of a more practicle generation, he sat down and did math. cost of car divided by life, cost of gas, cost of monthly insurance.
In the end, he determined they would save money if his wife TOOK A TAXY every time she had to run to the store, wanted to go out to lunch, etc. So they didn't buy a car, and he told her he wouldn't get mad if she just called a cab whenever she wanted to go somewhere.
Strange, huh. You might think "ug, Cabs are expensive. I don't want to pay for a cab just to go pick up a prescription." But, in the long run, in some family situations, it might be cheeper than getting a car.
Just food for thought. I think about this when I think about car ownership. I've even decided that when I have the babies (brett is going to stop working from home and thereby will need the car to go to work so he doesn't have screaming twins distracting him), Brett can take the car. I can walk a mile to the grocery store if I have to. A car payment, insurance, and gas, won't be worth the few tiems I actually make it out of the house.
And that is my essay on life.
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