Farewell, My Faithful, Fickle-Fused Friend

So, if you’ve been reading my blog for a while, you may know that I’m somewhat attached to my car. And why wouldn’t I be? Everyone knows that the perfect car is a car in which the brake lights never, ever turn off so you have to pull out a fuse every time you park, or else when you get back with your groceries or your library books, your battery will be dead. And then you have to stick the fuse back in and drive home with your brake lights on the entire time even when moving at full speed. EVERYONE KNOWS THIS IS THE SIGN OF A PERFECT CAR.

However… *sniff*….

However…. (*SNIFF*)…. I am moving from Florida to Massachusetts, and I don’t need a car in Massachusetts, plus I don’t think my car would make it all the way to Massachusetts but don’t tell my car I said that.

Today, I’m donating my car to NPR. NPR will cannibalize my car for parts, because that’s what people do when someone donates something that doesn’t work unless you know the complicated rules about which fuses need to be disattached when.

My car, my chariot, my honorable steed, has come to the end of its 175,825 mile journey.

And so today, to honor an old and faithful friend, I leave you with every single bumper sticker my car wore proudly.