Saying Goodbye to Kristofferson

This is a picture of Kristofferson, my 1991 Toyota Corolla that I said goodbye to yesterday. It was surprisingly hard to say goodbye to him, I will miss him dearly – I won’t miss the money he cost me (over $1,000 in repairs within 3 months of having him – timing belt, water pump, valve cover gasket, fuel header pipe, fuel tank, fuel sending unit). He was a loud car (especially after the exhaust broke loose from the catalytic converter), he had no AC, the radio was spotty at best. I did like the way he looked, and he boosted my hipster cred by a few points. I didn’t like him that much, but I loved the idea of him.

I bought Kristofferson in July of 2010 four years after selling my previous car, a 1999 Pontiac Sunfire that I never got around to naming. I went through four years of being an American with no car. In college I became a pro at borrowing cars. The two summers I stayed in Knoxville people loaned me a car for the time (thanks Isaac for Bertha [RIP]). And after I left school in October 2009 and I stayed in Knoxville I started riding the bus everywhere I needed to go. Riding the bus was an interesting time, I have some surprisingly found memories of the bus. Yet borrowing cars, and riding the bus may of gotten me from point A to point B, but it wasn’t freedom – the type of freedom you can only get from owning a car.

In high school long drives at night through the back roads of rural southwest Missouri epitomized my adolescence. Light night drives to watch thunderstorms, conversations while going to fast ‘round curves, the feel of air blowing past – these are how I copped with so much going on around. When my mom moved out, when my parents divorced, when my heart was broken, when I needed to wrestle with God – when these things happens I jumped in my car and speed off. Because it that car I was in control, I could leave it all behind me as I shut the door and put it into drive.

When I bought Kristofferson I had this freedom back. I could go anywhere, anytime without having to coordinate a car, or remember the bus schedule and route. When I bought him I felt like I was a grown up again, that I had this freedom that no one could restrict, that no one could control. Kristofferson represented that I had come out of one of the most trying seasons of my life on top, that I had made it through – that God had guided me through this exile back home.

After I finished the sale of Kristofferson I got in my friends car and said “Hurry up and drive before they figure out how big a piece of crap that car is.” Though, if I’m honest the reason I wanted to drive away so fast is that I wanted to move past seller’s regret, because despite all his failings I will always have a found memory of Kristofferson.

My new (to me) car is Betty White, a 2001 Honda Accord that I inherited from my grandmother. She is a golden grandma car (a golden girl) and Betty White is my favorite Golden Girl – you get it, it’s funny. Anyway – here is to a long relationship with Betty, may we have many fond memories, and far fewer trips to the mechanic.