Monday, January 4th, 2010.
| Happy New Year, or something like that. 2009 seemed to fly by, I suppose, but unlike so many people I know, I can't say that 2009 was all that bad. It had its ups, and it had its downs, but when I take a few steps back and look at the year as a whole perspective, I can't say it really sucked. It wasn't super awesome like some years have been in my past, but these days, I guess it doesn't hurt to be aspiring for "not sucking." I wonder how much that opinion would change if I were to actually comb through the year week by week, month by month, and remembered everything that happened? Who knows, for sure, but I'll leave it as it is now, as "not bad." The new year itself was brought in with little fanfare, little excitement, but much like my opinion of 2009, with not a whole lot of disappointment. I made a last-minute decision to fly to North Carolina on New Year's Eve, and spent the occasion with a few other people while drinking a little too much, and eating way too much unhealthy shit, making me feel like that I need to resolve to start losing weight for 2010. I still dislike my job, but the only difference now is that my agency has been made aware of it, and hopefully, they'll be able to help alleviate at least the financial part of my discontent. Mentally, I'm on my way out the door. And that's caught up with the events in my life, or as much as I can remember to talk about. ** But the real reason I'm sitting down and typing here on my lunch break is the topic of it's time to start looking for a new car. This issue came up back in April, but was dashed when the particular vehicle I had my eye on, I didn't even get to test drive because it sold that quickly. With the weather dipping down into the twenties all week here in Georgia, Mother Nature has decided to coerce me into reexamining the necessity to start looking for a new car again. Starting my car that has been freezing in a parking lot for three days was like firing up a lawnmower after an entire winter season of not being used. My car sputtered, the clutch stuck, and the gear-shift felt like stirring molasses. I had actually began deliberating paying the money to get my car's two biggest problems fixed, and attempting to push forth with another year of zero car payments, but with the realization that fixing those two problems would only likely result in the realization of other problems, it was probably in my best interests to begin biting the bullet, and begin shopping around again for something new. It's funny, just the other day, I watched Marley & Me for the first time, and I admit to feeling a tear or two creeping out at the notion of weird-nose losing his rambunctious, albeit faithful and loving canine companion to Father Time, and I couldn't help but feel lesser degrees of the same emotions at the thought that my time with my current car was creeping closer to its inevitable similar fate. But in the end, all that really matters is remembering the good things about my car, over the bad. Afterall, I can't really say that there was that much bad about my car; all of its current issues are all age-relative, and most everyone else would be envious to have the minimal headache my car has ever caused me compared to their own. It looks like I won't make it to the 230,000 mark that I had hoped to make it to, which is the rough equivalent to one-way from the Earth to the Moon. It would be unwise of me to pursue this inconsequential mark for the sake of bragging rights, when doing so could very well leave me saddled on the side of the road one day, not to mention the time needed would result in many dollars of repairs, and at least the cost of emissions testing. But it's okay, I still logged an ungodly massive 225,000+ miles of pavement, which is easily double, and quite possibly triple, of what most ordinary pleibians put on their own cars. One achievement I'd like to brag about is the fact that despite 225,000+ miles, I'm still running on the very first, stock clutch that came with my vehicle when it was probably manufactured somewhere in Mexico. I've heard of people burning out their clutches in as little as 30,000 miles, but most people I've known to drive their own manual transmissions tend to go anywhere from 60,000-70,000 miles. But apparently, I have a far superior sense of driving a stick to where I'm still driving on my stock clutch, and it's still grabbing fine, with zero slippage. The fastest I've ever driven my car was 136 mph, coming down the Appalachian mountains on I-66 in Virginia. Jen was riding shotgun, not aware of how fast I had my foot to the floor, and I was watching with adrenaline flowing, as my speedometer crept harder and harder to the right, and I finally lost my nerve, because I was going blazing fast, and I was beginning to see cars in front of me on the highway. When I told her to see, she yelled at me. Good times. In terms of timing, the one time I took my car to the drag strip, my best time was a 15.96 second quarter mile. I was absolutely ecstatic with the notion that I was able to break the 15-second mark, even if it was only by four-hundreths. But I'd have to say that the most important thing that the car was for me, it was the first car that I ever bought with my own money, paid for it completely on my own (the last payment was $1,200 in Las Vegas winnings), and have basically driven it through its entire lifespan. It has never let me down, to get from point A to point B. Even when I damaged the car from my own stupidity, I was still capable of slowly driving it to the mechanic that told me that it shouldn't have been driven in the first place. When a tire flew off of a truck, and smashed my windshield into a horrific spider web at 6:00 a.m., it held it together long enough for me to make it into my work's parking lot to where it could be repaired. I fought for it when companies like Firestone tried to scar and damage it. It has gotten me one speeding ticket, and one traffic ticket of expired tags of my own negligence, both of which required court appearances. I've spent countless hours in my car, from repeated trips between Virginia and Georgia, as well as having driven through Tennessee, Maryland, the Carolinas as well as Florida in its lifespan. I wish I could've driven it through more states than those. For the last nine years, my car has been a constant. Always there for me, and always reliable. My love for driving is certainly nothing from what it used to be, but it was also for the best, as it allowed the car to ease its way into its retirement. To say that because it's not a living thing, it cannot be a friend is absurd, because no matter how good or bad things in life may have ever been for me in the last nine years, my car was always a reliable friend that got me going in the next step of my life, which is certainly something I can't necessarily always say about everyone else in my life, including my own family, biological or surrogate. It's not over yet, but the clock has to be ticking about now. Soon, I'll be removing the RAZO pedals, and my aftermarket head unit, and making the final drive to wherever I'll be trading it in for the next vehicle I choose to take on, and hope that it can give me close to the level of reliability and support that my 2001 SR20 Nissan Sentra always did. What would be ironic is if everything in the very near future falls through, and then I'm left with this slightly emotional writing entry to kick off 2010, with no new car in sight. Oh well, c'est la vie or something like that. The next time I write, it'll probably be my 2009 reading list, which I have to say is looking a little, well, down-trodden, if I have to give it an adjective. ** </entry>
All articles on these pages were all written by Danny Hong, unless otherwise credited. |