After 13 years and 103,293 miles, the Blue Angel has a new home.
We took our final road trip together earlier this summer to Indiana, which is one of our favorite places to go. But the Blue Angel and I, we've been everywhere. She has been my trusty steed since I bought her brand new from the showroom floor in 2004. She had 12 miles on her.
We were thicker than thieves from day one. When I tell her we're leaving at 7, she's ready. Even if I'm late, she isn't. She's never complained about being early, running late, snow, rain, sleet or sun. She happily embarks.
She once (or twice) even drove me to Indiana on flat tires.
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| Blue Angel + Gina: Final odometer reading. |
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| Her original sales sticker. |
She is forcefield of protection and I have had complete faith and trust in her for over decade. When I was tired, the Blue Angel drove for me. When other drivers weren't paying attention, the Blue Angel was. When I was too lazy or it was too hot or cold to add gas when I should have, the Blue Angel kept going anyway, ensuring we arrived safe and sound.
She is my faithful driver, and I am her faithful servant. I can put The Blue Angel wherever I want — the smallest of parking spots, the faster lane, any backroad or byway. We've been all over the Midwest together, hand in steering wheel, like peas and carrots. There are probably 10 posts in this blog expressively about her. She is that amazing.
But I've been driving a stick shift for 25 years. Since I started driving. And I'm tired of it. If the Blue Angel was an automatic, I'd keep her forever. But pushing in the clutch all the time, especially on I-75, is no fun.
About two years ago I started thinking about getting another car. I wasn't ready then, but I thought I might be eventually, and I needed the extra time to get used to the idea. So I've been thinking about it. And debating. But I hated pretty much everything that drove past us.
"It's no Blue Angel," I'd think.
And I worried the Blue Angel might be upset if we weren't together anymore. I knew I would be. But I should have known better. The Blue Angel has never been upset with me, nor would she ever be. Her love and loyalty is unconditional. But still, when I was test driving cars this summer and the sales guy told me that if I traded her in they'd send her to auction, I nearly collapsed.
"Auction? No, no, honey. I don't think so."
I couldn't bear the thought of her out in some old hot auction yard, with uncaring people lowballing her worth and some rando buying her without knowing her name.
No, ma'am. Not on my watch. I vowed to not let that happen. She had to go to good home.
And then, a good home found her. Which is the way the universe works sometimes. A guy Ray works with wanted his 16-year-old daughter to know how to drive a stick shift, and she needed a cute little car to learn on and protect her.
Well, then look no further than the Blue Angel, I told Ray.
When Ray and I were trading texts about it, he reassured me, "She is going to be well loved. Jason takes really good care of his cars. He's an engineer. He knows how to care of her."
"Tell him she has been well loved, and that her name is the Blue Angel. Tell him to call her the Blue Angel and she will come when called... And tell him she prefers '90s R&B."
I admit I started to get a bit misty-eyed thinking she was going to another home. But that's because I love her, and she loves me. And we've been a team for a long time.
She was sold before I even got another car.
The family who bought her is lovely. She will be someone's first car. (A big honor, I think.) I even got to watch the girl who will be driving her now attempt her manual transmission for the first time. She did a terrific burnout. I was proud of her. I think the Blue Angel was proud too. They'll be peas and carrots in no time.
Since I'd been mentally preparing for this for at least a year, I was fine when Ray and I drove away and left the keys. If you heard that I in fact started to sob like a baby once we drove away, you aren't giving enough credit to babies. Babies hold it together way better than I did.
