Accidental Downsizing
“I am not attached to this car. I am not attached to this car.”
– Detective Charlie Crews, Life
It didn’t happen quite how we would have planned, but I had previously considered the notion that with Dave walking to work, we weren’t in need of two cars.
It was a bit of an accident that we became a two car couple in the first place. See, when Dad died, Mom inherited his old minivan. Trouble is, Mom doesn’t drive. Naturally, the state stepped in and said, ahem, if she doesn’t drive and therefore doesn’t have auto insurance, she can’t own a car.
So, because I was there and driving it anyway, the minivan became mine.
And a very good thing this was too because last week Dave had a rather abrupt meeting with a Ford Bronco, just a block from our house. He’s fine, the Bronco (go figure) is fine, but Vlad, poor Vlad, my ten-year-old Civic, is not.
Vlad ended up with body damage equal to the cost of, well, Vlad.
So, today we drove to the body shop, removed all our stray belongings, and said goodbye to the car that’s been my bestest most wonderful, reliable vehicle for the last ten years. I almost cried a little. Vlad was a good car, and tomorrow he’s off to the junkyard. I am attempting to be Zen about it, but I’m not doing a very good job.
I become attached to things. Cars, books, ancient and torn articles of clothing; our house is filled with things that make me go awww, or hmmm, or hey, remember when? I know I have a bad memory for details, but do I really need physical reminders of every single semi-important moment in my life? Wouldn’t a photograph do the job just as well?
I have pictures of Vlad. Not just crunched-in post-accident pictures, but dozens of pictures of Vlad at the beach, Vlad in the mountains, Vlad packed to the gills ready for a trip down I-5. And, since Vlad’s junkyard bound, those pictures will have to do.
Which brings up an odd thought: if Vlad were small – say, small enough to fit into a corner of my basement – would I hang onto him for sentimental reasons, just like I’ve hung on to every broken antique, every torn band t-shirt, every action figure with a limb missing? And if I’m forced to say goodbye to my favorite 10-year-old car, and I can live through it without being a complete mess, what’s stopping me from downsizing all the clutter in our basement as well?
Declutter your life, Vlad says to me before I say goodbye. I may have been your favorite, but you can haul a lot of stuff away in that minivan.
October 19th, 2007 at 3:36 pm
Hi! I’m so sorry to hear about your trusty steed (our Honda Civic is named Betsy), but so glad that Dave/Chopper is okay and that you’ve started this website! We’ve been slowly ambling along this same path and are now making as many changes as we can afford, as we can afford them - I’m so excited to be able to read about your journey!
October 21st, 2007 at 2:33 pm
I’m glad that Dave’s OK, and sorry about poor Vlad.
Since Paul works from home, and I work 2 miles from home, we’ve been talking about downsizing by getting rid of my 13-year-old car. (Paul’s car is a couple of years newer, and much nicer.) However, I’ve had a car since I was 16 (a rite of passage in my hometown of Houston), and habits of 30+ years are hard to break. I think I’m almost ready. Once I get there, perhaps I’ll be ready to tackle our basement, too.
I’m a fan of Life, too — love the Charlie Crews character, including his taste in cars.