I recently said goodbye to two old “friends” — our family’s 2007 maroon Honda CRV and my 11-year-old blue and gray Columbia Sportswear winter coat.
I come from a family that takes the moniker “frugal” as a compliment. Garage sales and Goodwill were our primary clothing stores when I was growing up (my mom’s choice, not mine). Now when I purchase something, it is with the expectation that it will last a long time. I don’t like to shop, so my motto is “Get it and forget it.” Bidding adieu to a car and a coat in the span of less than two months has been unsettling.
When I first brought the CRV home from Gates Chevy World in 2009 for a weekend trial, I was mostly enamored with the sunroof and the stereo. I drove it home, without telling my wife in advance, with the sunroof open and the stereo blasting. My wife seemed less convinced that it was a good replacement for our family-friendly 1995 Honda Odyssey. The CRV seemed destined for more pleasure than for practical use.
It turned out to be the best vehicle we have ever owned. My wife named it Calypso (Don’t ask me why. I was just glad she accepted the vehicle into our “family”). It was a reliable and comfortable vehicle for road trips. With its powerful front-wheel drive, it tackled northern Indiana’s snowy roads with ease.
We drove it to Thanksgiving get-togethers in Chicago, weddings, funerals, and trips to museums and parks. It took us and our kids safely to high school Science Olympiads and marching band competitions. It had ample space for moving our daughter to and from college. We drove it to our son and daughter-in-law’s wedding. OK, that wasn’t much of a trip because it was held at Notre Dame. We added a hitch for a bike carrier so we could hit the Pumpkinvine Trail in Elkhart County and trails in South Haven and Grand Rapids, Michigan. It was our go-to road trip car.
A year ago, our son and daughter-in-law borrowed the CRV for a trip to northern Michigan. They noticed that the air conditioning didn’t work. Then came a recall for the rear suspension. The ignition started making a weird crackling sound on every start. There was visible rust on the rear left wheel well. The plastic headlight covers were so yellowed, that driving at night was more difficult. One of the wheel rims was slightly bent, so we started getting frequent low tire pressure sensor alerts. A fall tuneup led to an expensive brake job and a failed attempt to repair the air conditioning.
We had spent more than $2,000 in repairs in just one year. That’s a vehicle’s way of telling you that it’s time to replace it. But car prices have been astronomically high since at least 2020. I think car dealerships like it that way. Selling fewer cars at higher prices means less work for the same or better profits.
In November, we bit the bullet and bought a used hybrid sport utility vehicle. We cleaned out Calypso on the dealer’s lot on a cold November Saturday morning. Much of what we removed stirred up memories of the past 14 years. The dealer gave us a decent amount in trade for the CRV and then promptly offered it online for twice what they gave us. Caveat emptor.
I’ve never been a car guy. During my adolescence, we did not have a car. It made me resourceful about how to get around and to appreciate the privilege of owning a car. I’m not interested in driving something fancy, enormous, or expensive. I’ve learned cars are a necessity in cities without good public transportation, which means they are a necessity in most U.S. cities, including South Bend.
My winter coat was also tough to part with. After all, I once walked on water wearing it. It got me through many brutally cold winters. Our dog Taffy and I went for hundreds of walks together and that coat kept me warm. I rang bells for The Salvation Army almost every December and I always had a toasty torso. After our dog passed away five years ago, I started walking my mom’s dog almost daily and my coat was along for those walks from October through April.
But the best story about the coat is the year all five Great Lakes froze almost completely over in 2004. We heard tales from our neighbor that she had visited Silver Beach in St. Joseph, Michigan that February and couldn’t believe what she saw. For the first time, my wife and I drove to our favorite beach in the middle of winter. It was as crazy as advertised. Sand buried everything on the beach. You could walk out on the frozen lake as far as you cared to. The waves were all frozen mid-billow. A few other bundled up souls were traipsing around. I would describe it as apocalyptic. My coat and I posed for a picture. I hope never to witness a winter like that again.
The insulation in that trusty coat had diminished. The bottom snap broke. The velcro closures around the zipper didn’t hold great. The collar was a bit pilled. The pockets were stretched from too many gloves and hats stuffed in them. I broke down and bought a new Columbia Sportswear coat. It’s not exactly the same. The hood doesn’t zip off and that bugs me. It’s a color I don’t love, but it was what was available in my size. It substitutes insulation with a reflective silver lining. I don’t love that. We’ll see if it works. In the meantime, I am going to donate my old coat to Broadway Christian Parish. I know they will find somebody who can use it.
Why do I get attached to things? They are inanimate objects. I can afford to replace them when necessary. I am richly blessed. And yet, new purchases like this make me uneasy. Do I really need them when so many people make do with much less?
The good news is there is still usefulness left in both the car and the coat. I hope the CRV, which only had 125,000 miles on it, will provide safe and reliable transportation to a family. New memories. I hope the coat will keep someone else cozy and dry. New warmth.
Fare thee well old “friends.”