It seems that the car I’ve had for the last nine and a half years is dying; we took it into our tame mechanic for its MOT yesterday and they reckon getting it sorted is £700-£800 on a car that, checking t’web, would at best fetch £600-£700 if sold. Our garage say they’ll arrange an indecent burial for the thing for us, and that’s probably the sensible thing to do.
But.
I feel like a small part of me would die with the car; I actually lay awake last night agonising over it. This is mad, so I spent a further while trying to work out
why.
It turns out that the car[1] is one of only three things of significance[2,3] that I have ever bought in my life just for me; no influence from other people’s agendas, and all three to a greater or lesser extent costing more than I could sanely spend at the time of purchase. Special things: gifts to myself, if you like. I guess the importance these have to me are a reflection of the aridity of the first half of my life; the pain I’m feeling right now is hardly rational...
We’ll be going to fetch the car home shortly, before we finally decide what to do with it (I’ll probably get a second opinion from a Citroën specialist, at least) but my feeling is that its time has come, and that I’ll never again have a car that means anything other than its surface functionality. Which, in environmental terms, is probably not a bad thing. It still hurts though; perhaps the best thing would be to donate it to
geoffcampbell as next year’s Summer Camp field car - it could go out with a (likely literal) bang then :)
[1] Citroën Xantia Activa
[2] Stokke Wing
[3] Manticore Mantra + LVX
ETA Geoff’s correct LJ name (not that he uses the thing)