My First Car
Yesterday I sold my first car.
It was a 1989 Honda Accord. 5 speed, 2 door, and plenty of heart. From the day almost two years ago when I bought it to yesterday when I sold it, it never let me down.
In our time together we travelled almost 40,000 kilometres. Kingston, New York, Niagra Falls, Algonquin Park, Georgean Bay, and countless Toronto streets. Everything from early-morning hockey to late-night trips home from all corners of the earth.
You always hear people talking about their first cars, and now I know why. For no straightforward reason, you and your first car become companions. You develop a full-fledged relationship: you maintain it, feed it gas and oil, and treat it well, it responds by cheerfully whisking you to any place your heart desires.
But all good things must come to an end. I had no concrete reasons to sell my first car yesterday. Sure, the air conditioning stopped working, and I knew it was still worth enough now to contribute to a down-payment on something new, but that wasn't it. The time just seemed right, a buyer came along, and the deal was done.
Soon I will be the proud owner of a brand new car. It will have great performance, all the bells and whistles, and be great fun to drive. But the fun will come from its acceleration, fancy features, and newness, not just because it is my travelling companion.
I sold my first car yesterday for a few hundred dollars. But the memories it has left me with are, quite simply, priceless.