Two weeks ago my car died. No, not my 1990 Honda Civic CRX, the hatchback that I bought used 18 years ago this Christmas–that car is the St. Louis Cardinals of cars. It refuses to die. A month ago I was driving home on a Sunday afternoon when I heard a loud wham from the back. I was afraid that my bumper had fallen off–the sagging one that my friend and I had bolted on–but it turned out that one of my new tires had blown. So I put on the spare and just kept driving.

That’s my car. Everything around it dies, but it just keeps on going. In this case the car that died was my Oldsmobile van–it blew its head gasket for the second time. So rather than sink another $2,000 into fixing it, we went looking for a Honda. And since used Honda vans are in some cases more expensive than new (is it possible for a car to appreciate?), we did something I never thought I’d do–buy new. When the salesman asked why I didn’t want his extended warranty, I said it’s because I believe in your product. If I thought I needed an extended warranty I wouldn’t be here.

So now my garage has a brand new Honda and an antique Honda. I have a good idea which one I’ll replace first, though I’ve learned not to bet against my CRX. And now that my head gasket on the Oldsmobile is barely leaking, if you live near GR and want a good deal on a fine van that may absolutely drop dead at any time, call me.






2 responses to “cars”

  1. Thanks. The Cardinals reference made me smile.

  2. Jonathan Shelley

    We’ve become a Honda family, too, in part because of the epic saga of the Civic. I don’t know if you name your cars, but if you do, the obvious choice for the Civic is Methuselah.

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