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Leap February 29, 2008

Posted by indigobunting in Uncategorized.

This morning I will drive north with my beloved 1998 Subaru Forester—the one that has served me well for more than 10 years, the car that is part of life-as-I-know-it in Vermont, the vehicle that has clocked thousands of miles on Route 153—and trade it in for a 2008 Subaru Outback.

Why do I always feel guilty?

Without going so far as to name vehicles, I must in some way personify these relationships. I feel as if I’m trading in the loyal, mostly reliable friend, a little worn around the edges, for a much younger model. I am in fact using it to do so. My Forester could last another year or two or three—how could I be so heartless as to turn my back on it? This is how I repay years of service?

I felt this way when I traded in my 1988 VW Golf for the car I say goodbye to today. In fact, I’m still able to conjure up a feeling of guilt about that—yes, there it is. Has that Golf yet forgiven my betrayal?

Heated seats, whispers the new Outback. Baby, a warm ass can make you forget.


1. Cedar Waxwing - February 29, 2008

Haha. I love it! But I know what you mean about car relationships. I still feel sad thinking about my tan Hornet (the shit car with the great sound system) that we used in Pittsburgh. I also feel nostalgic thinking about our ’85 Tercel – we brought both babies home it her.

And speaking of Vermont – Clare’s considering visiting the University of Vermont next month.

2. Bridgett - February 29, 2008

Cedar, you just made me love my Venture van more. Both babies did come home in that van. Oh. I will miss it when it goes (it is 8 years old, we’re hoping to make it to 10 or 11, but there’s already 165,000 miles on it). I did not miss the Cavalier or the Prizm when they left. Those were more like divorces due to irreconcilable differences rather than adultery.

3. Craig (Maito Sewa Yoleme) - February 29, 2008

I think I’ve only had one car that I named. I always WANT to name my cars, but I feel too silly, especially the older I get.

But I don’t miss my cars when I move on to a new one. Usually that’s because they’ve fallen apart bit by bit, causing me to get angry with their decrepitude. If they want my love, they should last forever.

4. Deloney - March 1, 2008

My father didn’t have a car so we walked, walked walked and walked when I was a kid. We threw stones over the bridge into the creek and all that on our way to the only plaza and all that.

Sing along, my sweet friend:


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