I Heard it Downtown

They say all good things must come to end. Apparently, that also extends to mediocre things.

Today marks the end of an era. My car, a 1997 Mitsubishi Mirage, the Mormon Meteor, has apparently been pronounced totaled and dead. There was no dramatic, spectacular crash or fatality…it appears that it just finally succumbed to a long list of minor ailments, until the price tag to repair it exceeded what its worth (which, I admit, doesn’t take a whole lot, considering I bought it for less than 1,000 bucks).

The ol’ Meteor had a history of coming up small with the pressure was on. If I had to take a carload of people somewhere in a hurry, it would magically switch to 3 Horsepower, and top out at around 30MPH. If I needed to get through a yellow light, it would refuse to accelerate. If I was taking a pretty girl on the date, it would find new and exciting ways to break down, so I couldn’t even drive. It was the automotive equivalent of the Cincinnati Bengals.

And perhaps, like the Bengals, it pretty much went down for good without a fight (although, thankfully *unlike* the Bengals, it also went down without 4 felony convictions). I noticed that my windshield wipers abruptly stopped working a few days ago, so I took the car down to my friendly neighborhood Midas for a looksie. Apparently, my “windshield wiper motor” had broken, a part of my car whose existence I had never even considered until that very moment. Also, because I have a fairly old, Japanese car, said part would take about 2 weeks to get here, and cost about 500 bucks. Just like that, my car was practically totaled.

So I leave the garage feeling pretty upset, and also worried about my drive home, seeing as I’d have to navigate route 71 in the rain without the benefit of windshield wipers. Right after I tried to make my first lane change though, I discovered that I had another problem. None of my lights worked. No hazards, no headlights, no turn signals, nothing. Not satisfied with depriving me of my ability to see whats in front of me, my car decided to blow every freakin’ fuse in my car. Not even my CD player was spared…and now my copy of Bruce Springsteen’s The Rising is stuck in my car. Dammit.

So I had to call AAA to tow my car and bail me out…it was the lamest “accident” story ever. The car still turns on, there is no visible damage…but for all intents and purposes, its pretty much out of commission, since I can only really drive short distances on perfectly sunny days now. The Mormon Meteor. Jan 2006-Nov 2008.

Just because me and the ol’ Meteor didn’t have the same emotional bond as my last car, my baby blue 1985 Olds Cutlass (nicknamed The Blue Boat) didn’t mean it wasn’t useful. A family friend very generously allowed me to use the car when I first got back to Ohio, and desperately needed help to get back on my feet (and later sold me the car). The Meteor took me to physical therapy, to many an Aces High show, and eventually, to the campus of the Ohio State University. Just because it wasn’t glamorous (or always consistent) doesn’t mean I didn’t like it.

But now its done (unless I’m magically able to appropriate a 1997 Mirage Windshield Wiper Motor), and its time to turn the page, and get ready for a car-less few months. I didn’t think the Meteor was going to make the trip to New Orleans anyways…I’ll just have to make that transition a little sooner I guess. (unless any of you guys happen to know anybody who has a beater they might let me rent for a few months. That would be useful)

So yeah. Nobody ask for a ride in the near future