Long May You Run

I recently bid goodbye to my tired little car, just 4,500 miles short of my quarter-million mile goal. Mike located the replacement he chose for me, and we needed to move fast. (I am NOT interested in car shopping, not one bit.)

As I cleaned it out, I actually got a little teary. Yes, I sometimes get emotional about inanimate objects, and my trusty Honda was one of them. I typically thanked her after every long drive; often telling her “You take good care of me.”

And she did. I don’t know how many times I drove alone from Oklahoma to Marinette and back when my Dad became seriously ill; but it was frequent, often in winter weather. She never let me down. There were no serious events, no deer hit, no stranding on the interstates.

I shuttle back and forth from Central Wisconsin to Marinette frequently; I spent many hours driving while listening to the radio or playing CD’s. The big CD collection is becoming a memorial to a different space in time, as her replacement doesn’t have a player. It’s all “on line” connectivity now. I am lukewarm about the idea.

She kept me warm in winter, cool in hot summers and her seats and console seemed custom made for my size and preferences.

She will probably go to a car re-saler now; big car lots don’t want to waste space on something that won’t be very profitable to sell. My hope is she ends up with someone who will cherish her like I did…maybe someone’s first car, or an upgrade for one of the millions who depend on vehicles that have seen a lot of neglect or abuse to get around. My car never needed much work, but most of it was done by my trusted auto mechanic, my husband.

As I said goodbye to my car, I told the person handling the transaction that I probably had the high mileage surrender of the month, but he said someone had turned in a Honda with 545,000 miles just the day before.

I didn’t look back when I left, because I really felt awful, like I was abandoning a dog at a shelter.

At least I am not the only one who had such “feels” about a car…I remembered the song “Long May You Run,” by Neil Young. The song is about the singer’s first car, which he called “Mort.” It was a 1948 Buick Roadmaster hearse, that died in 1962 after blowing a transmission. It’s pretty clear Neil still had feelings for that odd vehicle decades later. And my nephew and his wife just sold her old jeep, and she bid an emotional farewell to her ride of eight years.

After I returned home, I was putting away CD’s and realized I’d left two favorites in the CD changer in my old car. I contacted the dealer, and he was kind enough to get them retrieved and mailed to me. I had a good laugh, imagining the sniggers as the employees found ”Pachelbel by the Sea” a complication of lovely piano music; and “Snatam Kaur,” music intended for yoga practice that I love for her ethereal vocals. If there was an award for weird musical taste I might be in the running.

In my first conversation with my fourth Honda I have informed her she has big, big shoes to fill. Goodbye, and thank you little Honda. Long may you run.

I welcome commentary, alternative viewpoints or ideas at this e-mail address: JanieTMartin@gmail.com.