last rodeo

Well, 1993 Saturn, my ride for these many years (and John's the last 4 years and change), thanks for the memories. A car that was assembled in the good ol' US of A and lasted longer than the company did. It survived a tire tread hitting its hood on the freeway, countless rocks in its windshield, and it pulled me out of 3 feet of water in the 1996 floods in Sacramento.

Is it silly to write a goodbye blog to an automobile? Perhaps. Am I anthropomorphising here? Um.  Yes. I was relieved when I came out to wait for my Lyft ride that they had already taken it away. My betrayal complete and my voucher in hand, I couldn't wait to get the hell out of that off-Coliseum Way cul-de-sac, inaptly called Julie Ann Way, more fitting for a sweet-faced babysitter than a locale for destroying cars, where the sound of a grinding engine is ever-present.  It also had to be at least 15 degrees warmer there than the rest of Oakland.

At 26, I was far too immature to stroll onto a dealership lot by myself, so I arrived with my mom, stepdad, and sister for moral support. After much indecision, hand-wringing and lunch, I rolled off the lot with a gold SL1 beauty and was thrilled to have a brand new car. I paid it off in 1998 and just today, sent it off to scrap heap.  The check for $1000 should arrive in a couple days.  You read that right: a grand for this ol' gal with probably 200K miles on it.  Why "probably"?  The odometer gave up the ghost 3 or 4 years ago.  The speedometer is out.  Oh, and the rear defroster. And the air conditioner.  Under the hood, you don't wanna know, but it made it to its last rodeo.