Dear Saturn Ion,
On or about today, I’ve owned you for eight years, or 96 months if you’re a mommyblogger. Doesn’t time fly?
You are the fourth car that I’ve owned and since the first 3 are most likely scrap metal, I’ll pull no punches and say you are the best car I’ve ever had and my favorite. Having your paint NOT peel off in big chunks (car #3, the blue Neon) is plus. So is not constantly smelling like exhaust (car #2, the Mustang) or being the size of the Pacific Princess (car #1, the Ford Fairmont).
Back when I bought you strictly because I had dented the chassis of the Neon and needed a quick no-hassle car purchase RIGHT AWAY I didn’t think you’d last this long.
You’re not the most stylish car out there, but you get me where I’m going in comfort and your trunk makes a great toilet paper and dog food storage area when they go on sale.
And oh, the places we’ve gone! You’ve taken me to Florida, Mississippi, South Carolina, Michigan and Massachusetts without complaint. Sure, sometimes you refuse to start right away in the winter, but sometimes I don’t start right away either. The difference is that I can call out sick. You need to be coaxed into service.
You’re so reliable and haven’t cost me much in repairs at all, unlike your older siblings. Plus, you’ve outlived your brand! There will truly never be another you.
I took you for your biennial inspection today. And while I waited in the cold glass enclosure and half-prayed you wouldn’t stall or otherwise be given the red rejection sticker of doom, I realized that this would be the last time we’d go through this process together.
Because since the world’s ending in December 2012, you’ll be the last car I own.
Thanks for taking me to the end of the earth. Literally.