Hug your car

It's a random weeknight in Bloomington, and the '84 Buick Skylark I'm riding in sputters and dies before it's even out of my driveway. My friend, the driver, explains that "Bob Dole" (named because of an impotent horn) has problems starting when it's humid.\nI'm not surprised. Bob is a terrible heap of parts that should have been scrapped years ago. The problems with the car are far too numerous to count, so much so that it may be easier to just list its functioning parts. One instantly notices the lack of paint on the trunk, the rust along the rocker panels and the strange noises from the front of the car that make you think the car itself is ill.\nIn other words, Bob fits the profile of the car that most college students are driving. These cars are either inherited after parents reject them or purchased by students with mundane jobs far after the car's prime. Due to the second-class status of this car, you would think that students everywhere would hate the car they drive. \nHowever, the truth is that we love our dented fleet of terrible cars with a fervent passion. A roadside onlooker may see our cars for what they are: automobiles on their last legs. We see our cars as symbols of freedom and hope for the future. \nThe crap cars of students are the vehicles that allow us to sputter bravely into the future, working our way toward some distant goal. In a way, a car is much like an extension of our own efforts. When you need to get up and go to work in the morning, it's your car that takes you there. When you have to travel to see family, your car goes with you. Even when you take ill and need to see a doctor, it's your car that waits patiently for you outside.\nThese cars are not only faithful, but also try their absolute best to get you where you need to go. The evidence of their effort becomes clear when you hear the backfire of an engine or the squeal of old tire. It is a well-known secret that our cars are all slowly dying, but regardless of their terminal illness, they still gallantly fight to get us where we need to go. Without question the brave automobile will drive itself to death's door if we ask it to. Such loyalty is rare, maybe even absent, in the human race.\nAnd so our love flows for these cars. Bob is a cherished commodity for his owner, even though he only has a year or so to live. You see, Bob is dying from a disorder that will cause his front axle to detach from the rest of the car. Bob's owner will surely pay more than the car is worth to get him up and running again.\nAnother friend of mine just had his entire engine rebuilt in his '92 Mercury Sable. The repairs cost more than the car was worth, but for him the satisfaction of driving his favorite car was worth the price. I must admit that I too have affection built up for my own Sable. She's gotten me through good times and bad. Sure, we've had our problems, but she's still with me after all these years.\nI suggest that you go out and tell your car just how much you appreciate it. Remember to love your car as it loves you, because cars are people, too.