I haven't had a car with a radio (or tape deck or cd player or any music other than what I make myself, thumping on the steering wheel, singing made-up songs that are often quite witty but I never remember them) for years. Years, people.

And the dumpy little blue bubble of a car that has faithfully carted my ass around no longer has that duty to serve. No more fluttering the clutch and gas pedal when it goes cough cough choke and shakes like it has the chillblains; no more adjusting the two layers of towels beneath my behind so the springs in the soggy old seat don't poke me in an unfortunate place; no more getting trapped in the automatic seatbelt that sometimes works; no more worrying about the coming rain, since for whatever reason the little blue doesn't like the rain and has a tendency to stall if I go through a puddle. Sputter chug. I have a fancy damn station wagon. It is sooooo comfortable. Don't be jealous.

I remember when Grandma bought it, I was a senior in high school and she taught me how to drive in it, and said I could use it whenever I wanted. I borrowed it once to go on a camping trip with some friends but mostly she used it for all her errands. She had it serviced like clockwork and it has maybe 70,000 miles on it. It is red and shiny.

My parents both have good vehicles, and they thought S & I needed a reliable car, so they gave it to us.

I don't remember the last time I heard the Psychadelic Furs while driving in my car.