When I turned 50, my wife gifted me with a compact SUV. More than two decades and close to 380,000 kilometers in the odometer later, it is still with me. And my wife seems to be truly, finally resigned to my not parting with it anytime soon.
More than my oft-stated reasons for keeping it—like “It’s our one other vehicle that has 4-wheel drive” or “It’s very well maintained”—it was when she heard me tell the home service mechanic that I intend to take the car to my grave that she seemed to realize how deeply attached I am to it. She has now relented. Instead of her persistent entreaties for me to sell the car while I could still get a fair price for it, she now says, “Do with it what you want.”
Why, indeed, am I so attached to my 21-year-old car? Because it was a gift from my wife is a big reason. But is it still reasonable to keep, knowing that maintenance costs are growing and even brand-new parts for the model are scarce and one often has to settle for surplus or used parts sourced from Banawe or Evangelista? The effort, the downtime, the uncertainty of when something truly major like engine or transmission or suspension problems will arise can truly discourage any car owner wanting to keep a car in good running condition even as sleek electric vehicles and hybrids seem to be the wiser, planet-friendly choice for many motorists nowadays.
I am far from being a motorhead and the only basic maintenance skills I have are changing tires and topping up the fluids. While I am scrupulous about oil change (using only semi- or fully-synthetic) and tune-ups and brake checks and the air conditioning, lately I am less and less bothered when the paintwork gets a scratch or even when things fall off, like the compartment door inner panel or the entire glove compartment.
I don’t even mind that the side mirrors’ color does not match the car’s (I could no longer get white-colored ones after a speeding car carrier got too close and tore off the right side mirror one dark night in our poorly-lit South Luzon Expressway).
I have not even bothered to change the stereo system despite it still being a long-unused tape cassette and CD player, and only occasionally listen to its FM or AM radio, as I often prefer to drive in silence.
I also forgave our teething dogs when they chewed off the mudguards, or when they corroded the brake discs and calipers with their urine.
Is it a male thing? Something mechanical I can learn about and tinker with and keep running for as long as I can? Is it the familiarity, the feel, how over the years I have a comfortable sensation that the car has adjusted to my form, my driving habits, and that it is, in a way, a part of me?
I guess these are the intangibles, the comforts that habit and routine have ingrained and that I’m very apprehensive of losing.
Basically, I have developed a relationship with the car. While I have not given it a name, like Shirley or Inga (and will surely dare not name it after my wife), it is as close to me as any mechanical beast or sentient being I can relate to by seeing to its needs, deciphering its quirks and foibles and breathing its fumes, and the wonderful feeling of speed, comfort, mobility and freedom it gives me. In it I reside my joys and my life as I care for it and drive it. Now, if that isn’t a relationship, I don’t know what is.
Speaking of relationships, taking care of a car also requires developing relationships of trust. If there is a person with whom you should develop a long-term relationship of trust, it is your car mechanic. Car maintenance becomes that much easier when you get a fair degree of assurance that you got good advice and good service and not shoddy workmanship.
While “casa” or dealer maintenance is best during the vehicle’s warranty period, a car as old as mine becomes overly expensive to maintain if servicing is done all the time by the dealer. The owner thus becomes more hands-on and will need to develop his or her own network of service shops, from the neighborhood car wash to the usual mechanical and auto electrical service shops, and now, in the age of computer controls, reliable scan and sensor specialists. From them I have learned the notion of “run to fail” or “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
Just like any long-term relationship that succeeds, the keys to car maintenance are acceptance and caring. Until it fails. And dies. And gets buried with you, literally or figuratively. CS
