A few years ago, when we moved back to California from New York, we needed a car. Well, we needed two cars, but that’s beside the point. We needed a car because we were coming from a place where we needed zero cars. And where we had zero cars.
A generous friend of mine let me assume ownership of a well-used Honda Civic he was not using. Sarah named her Judy. She was a good car and she served us well first as a commuter for Sarah, then as a second car during the pandemic, and finally as a family car we didn’t mind getting a little sandy with the children.
With the recent acquisition of a minivan, Judy became redundant. I wasn’t sure what to do with her so I asked my friend if he wanted her back. She’s about 60,000 miles further down her road, but she’s been well maintained and even got a brand-new air conditioning system a couple years back when the old one decided to die in July in New Mexico.
So I asked my friend if he wanted her back. I figured if he didn’t I could probably sell her for a decent bit of coin with how ridiculous the used car market it right now. I told him her could have her for the price of coming to get her. He agreed that it was a good deal and hired a company to come load her up and drive her to Santa Ysabel, CA. For a pretty fair price, too! He paid the trucking company basically what he would have spent to fly out here, get from Baltimore to Delaware, and then drive all the way back, except that he saved himself five days of travel and crappy roadtrip meals. Good move.
Last Saturday, a man came from Pennsylvania and loaded her up on one of those trucks I’ve seen many times before and as many times wondered about how they got cars on there. The answer is: they drive them.
It was pretty cool! I thought he was going to screw it up a couple of times, especially as he came back down the wheels going toward a car with a much greater resale value than Judy. He didn’t, however, which is good.
Before he loaded Judy up, he walked around with his phone making notes on where there was damage, as if I were renting a car. He showed me the diagram covered in dots indicating existing damage. “She’s not a looker,” I told him, “but she goes,” and signed to release the car.
And there she goes! Easily the nicest car on the truck. Goodbye, Judy! You were a good car and served our growing family well. If I could have fit three car seats across your back row, I would have kept you until your wheels fell off. Enjoy your new-old home and may you drive many many more miles.
Apologies for no audio version on this one. Ran out of time before relocating to Maryland for the new baby’s arrival. I’ll come back and record it down the road once settled.
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