Cars

I hate this feeling. I am sitting at a car dealership completely vulnerable because I just turned over the keys to my minivan to the mechanic and have absolutely no clue how much it will cost to buy them back. This isn't a oil change visit, this is a visit where I try to simulate the noise that my car is making whenever I put it in reverse. In this economy I fear the worst. I see the mechanic's eyes begin to gleam as I continue to try duplicating the foreign grinding noise that sporadically comes from my engine. I see that look and think, this won't be good.
It gets even more ominous when that same mechanic sends a salesman in to explore buying new rather than continuing to invest in a beater. 'Ma'am, (yes I am a ma'am) this might be the ideal time to consider buying a new car rather than invest any money in that vending machine on wheels that you pulled in with'. I admit a family could survive for days on the residue that is on my van's floor, BUT that same vehicle is paid in full. "Ma'am interest rates are at historic lows and we can offer incredible deals on any car on the lot"," thank you but I like my car", "yes but it is a piece of crap that should not be on the road", "yes but it is paid for", "yes but with the deals we are offering right now your new car could also be paid for in less than six years". I fear that the longer this conversation goes on, the more expensive my bill is becoming.
I am not a car person. I like my car to start every time I turn it on and to run for as long as I need it to, the rest is icing. I lived in Boston for years when I graduated from college. On street parking taught me not to stress over dings, dents or scratches. When you stop worrying about what a car looks like you really stop worrying about cars. I bought a car for $1,200 when my other car got repo'd, that is a story for another time. The car was an oxidized tomato red Datsun (remember those?) B210 hatchback. I named her Bertha. That little car was the best car I ever owned. She had way over 100,000 miles on her but, regardless of the weather, no matter how cold it was she always started. She carried me through storms, through poor maintenance and through my youthful drunken mistakes. One time, after a few too many beers and chicken wings I was driving home and turned left onto the metro train rails, Bertha did not complain, she continued grinding her way along on the rails until I could find a spot to finally turn off of them. Bertha leaked oil, there was no real upholstery left because it had been fried by the sun and I remember a time when my rather tall boyfriend, now my husband, climbed into her passenger seat and shot rather violently straight into the back seat because the seat was broken. Bertha may have been ugly but she was a gem. When I was ready to grow up a little and move up to a newer model, I got teary when I had to hand over her keys to her new owner. I went over the long list of quirks that I thought he should know about and then, feeling like a traitor, I climbed into my mazda and drove away. I had traded Bertha for a months rent.
I don't know what became of Bertha, but I do know that I would see her occasionally over the next few years driving around Boston. I drove that car for over four years, now that is a good investment!
So the mechanic just came in, new timing belt and other assorted recommendations bring my total to $590. Do I really need everything that they suggested? I don't know. I do know that I will not be driving off the lot in a new car when my current car is still serving me well. So I will write the check and climb back into my less than beautiful van and drive home. My kids will be sad and my husband will be disgusted, they all think I need a new car, but I don't care. I do realize however, that my van needs a name.