Dwarf Planet in Purple

Last Tuesday -- a week ago tomorrow -- Maugorn and I picked up the Honda Accord from the auction lot in southern Anne Arundel County, and then we had enough time left in the day that we took my 1996 Pontiac Sunfire to the salvage lot in Jessup. I hated to think of my beloved automotive partner of 20.5 years going to "the junkyard," but I need the cash more than the tax deduction (because I may not have enough other deductions to itemize, anyway).

Fortunately, we could get to the salvage lot via U.S. Route 1 instead of limited-access highways. Maug followed me the whole way, in case the bent frame collapsed or something. (I was in a then-SO's 1974 Dodge Dart when the frame broke. He was driving about 5 mph in a parking lot when there was a sudden "bang" like a gunshot and the entire car started to shake like gelatin. So, yeah, I didn't want that to happen to me on this final trip.)

The day was mild and sunny. My Pontiac's engine worked perfectly well, even if there was a lot of noise from the exhaust leak. However, it didn't feel like a dying vehicle. I listened to the all-news station, WTOP, which was just breaking the news of Carrie Fisher's death.

At the salvage yard, the sun shone heartbreakingly brightly through the open sunroof:



Maugie took a photo of my last embrace:



Final odometer reading: 197,570.

Shortly after leaving the yard, I asked Maug: "Why does this feel as if I just left a beloved family pet at a high-kill animal shelter?" And then the tears came. Well done, good and faithful servant.

Anyhow ... I took the Accord to the local friendly garage for mandatory Maryland inspection. It needs a new muffler and front pipe, plus an upper ball joint on the left front side. Not too bad for a 1993 vehicle. Despite the car's age, several of my Facebook friends have assured me that I made a good choice, with one guy saying that the early-1990s Accords are among the best cars Honda has ever made.

Normally I just call my cars "Baby," but this Accord is going to be known as Draco, as in Draco Malfoy, because R. will take one look at my Accord and exclaim, "SLYTHERIN!!"



R. owns a champagne-colored 1993 Honda Accord himself -- he bought it brand-new from a dealer and takes meticulous care of it. For whatever reason, though, he hasn't asked me about my car situation since I got the Accord. And he and I went to the Wizards game together on Friday (it was his company's employee outing, so it was all free of charge to me). When I do finally tell him about it, he'll get quite the surprise....

Yesterday the boy toy and I wanted to do a bit of grocery shopping. So we got in the car ... and nothing happened.

Or, rather, the engine cranked and cranked and tried to turn over, and came awfully close to turning over and catching, but nada.

Our next-door neighbor tried to give us a jump start, and so did the AAA battery truck, but again, nothing. So I had to wait for a different AAA truck with towing capability.

This time I took it to Greenbelt Auto & Truck rather than Precision Tune, just so that I could walk home instead of waiting for two different Metrobuses that might or might not be following their usual routes because of the recent snow. (Not that we had another Snowmageddon, just an average heavy, wet snow on Thursday.)

Now, I had the battery replaced less than three months ago (see entry of Nov. 26, 2013), so I don't think that's the problem. (If it is, I want a free replacement!) But of course I'm worried that it's a worse problem. And I hope this shop will work with me if Maugie volunteers to help me find a replacement part again.

It sucks to have an aging car, but at least I *have* a car. I shudder to think what will happen when that vehicle bites the dust for good. I really hate asking for rides and relying on the bus.