For most people, a car is an appliance and nothing more. Those lucky people don’t really bond with their cars, making it easier to say goodbye to them. For the rest of us, our cars are a part of us. We go through our lives building memories, going places, meeting people, and falling in love with our cars being a major part of it. Our cars aren’t just transportation devices, but a member of the family. Eventually, the good times will come to an end and you will have to say goodbye to your friend of metal and glass, and it may hurt.
I just sold my beater 2005 Volkswagen Touareg VR6. It made every bit of sense to do it as the vehicle served its purpose and it is now in need of enough repairs that I could just buy a nicer Touareg for less. It was completely logical to sell that SUV, but watching the new owner floor it out of my neighborhood felt like watching a pet pass away. I hope that Touareg continues living a decent life.
We don’t usually feature comments from Autopian Asks, but I had to give Canopysaurus a COTD nom:
The last new car I ever owned, my 1986 Saab 900 Turbo. Thirty years later, almost to the day that I picked it up at the factory in Sweden, I watched it pull off on a flatbed as a donation to the Kidney Foundation.
Together, we rolled through a dozen countries, sixteen states, six homes, nine serious girlfriends (and various other dalliances), two hurricanes, three floods, one tornado, and one macaw, all while accumulating over 500,000 miles.
Over the years Super Saab toted Christmas trees, a couch, a big screen TV (not today’s lightweight kind), a washing machine, firewood, and a goat (long story) with nary a complaint nor breakdown. It survived three collisions (head-on, rearend, and T-bone) and drove home from each leaving me without a scratch.
Alas, the floods spelled doom for the frame though that mighty motor still fired up every time, right to its final day.
When the truck departed with my Saab, I hurried out to my dock on the river and my last view of my trusty companion was as it passed over a bridge a half mile upstream. I did tear up as it left my life.
Hug your cars tightly tonight, my Autopians.
Earlier today, Jason pulled a, well, him, and gave Honda some suggestions for more nameplates based on come-before words. In the comments is perfection from DysLexus, an awesome username:
I had a premonition presupposing that some preliminary preeminent preposterous pre-naming pre-convention would predate any previously predicted Honda car names heretofore.
— Dr. Allie Literation
JunkInTheFrunk followed it up beautifully:
I really like Honda Premonition. It could the first car that can warn you about accidents before you leave the driveway.
Finally, we arrive at today’s Morning Dump news roundup, which featured a story about a founder of a series of car dealerships accused of setting a bike shop on fire, Rivian’s love of money, and some Formula 1 news. I love this comment from Thomas Metcalf:
Everybody knows the best way to get an owner to sell a property is to create a local monster legend and then dress up as said monster to scare the owners and customers away. It is a nearly foolproof plan as long as no kids and their dog meddle.
Have a great evening, everyone.
Half a lifetime and half-a-million miles…
How on earth do you replace a trusty companion like that?
And what do you replace it with?
Someday I will have a similar story with the ’06 Sierra I bought new. The second owner will be whatever junkyard takes it when rust breaks the frame in half. I hope that’s at least 20 years away, but whenever that happens I won’t just tear up, I will be a blithering slobbery mess of a man.
im not crying
My father had a white ’89 Turbo convertible that he and I shared over the years – but it was really HIS car, first and foremost, that I just merely borrowed whenever I felt like switching my car out for it. We worked on small-ish stuff, that could be done by jacking it up on the street, but for anything bigger that needed a lift, he had a buddy who has his own collection of Saabs and did the work for us. That ended up being a huge help for us, as my dad’s health was slowly declining over the years, and while I enjoyed working on the car, I’ve got a busted right knee which would make that difficult for any long stretch of time.
For instance, about 8 years ago I was driving it on the highway and the transmission blew up, and we had it to towed to him and he fixed it all up!
Anyway, as my dad’s health continued to
decline even more over the years from cirrhosis and end stage liver disease ( He wasn’t even much of a drinker – it was just genetics!), it became even clearer that even if I took the car, I wouldn’t be able to maintain it myself.
We made the decision that it would be best to just pass it on to his friend who graciously agreed to take it, which happened back in October. (Incidentally that ended up being one of the last days where my father was able to be up and walking around, before things took an even farther decline.)
From what I understand, his buddy is going to fix up the many individual things that needs fixing and actually keep it going, rather than merely using it as a parts car. Especially considering it’s got very little rust and the original paint job is in almost perfect condition!
My dad ended up passing away about two months ago, the morning of this past Jan 6 (Not THAT Jan 6!).
In any event, it’s nice to think he’s going to keep driving that car as long he can.
Sorry to hear of your father’s passing—but glad that his car will motor on.
I hope in years to come that seeing his buddy driving it eventually prompts only a pang of regret and a wistful smile rather than the stab we feel while the loss is still fresh.
The classic 900 turbo definitely goes on my list of the world’s most perfect cars. It did so many things and checked so many boxes.
I’ve owned two Saabs: A 1996 900 Turbo and a 1973 96 V4. They were both fantastic cars and I still miss that Saab no longer exists.
OMG! What an amazing feeling to get a COTD. It wouldn’t be weird if I printed this out and hung it on the fridge would it?
Fridge. LinkedIn. Go for it.
You rang, Mercedes?
Chills.
I think we need to hear the goat story.
Long or not, any events which end in transporting a goat in a freaking Saab are worth the recounting. The mic is yours, Canopysaurus: give.
It’s a reasonable thing to do. I’ve transported all sorts of crap with mine:
https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/53279073650_a6d22436d6_c.jpg
Boo! Boo!
🙂
I owned an ’89 SAAB 900 till 2001 when it was crunched beyond economic repair so I bought a 9-3 The 900 was the best car I ever owned.
Me too (base model 89 900i) took my firstborn home from hospital in it. Unfortunately just too big for my wife to return to driving in, the overhangs were admittedly very large. I loved that car, for the quality it was unbelievably cheap (£1000) in the early 2000s
Tis Better to have owned and lost than never to have owned at all.
A strong contender for tomorrow’s COTD.