I put my car up for sale on Craigslist today. I’m moving to New York City and it’s just not practical. Yet it’s probably the hardest part of this whole move for me.
I love driving. I mean LOVE. When gas was cheap I used to just drive (stop looking at me like that, environmentalists!) for hours. When I wrote music reviews every week, my favorite place to absorb an album that I needed to review was in the car.
The last time I lived without a car was my freshman year in college. I had a car when I was in high school–mostly because my parents were working full time and if I had a car it was less work for them. When I was 17, it turned up–a 1992 Acura Integra, flame-red. We called it the Bitchmobile.
I moved out of the dorms sophomore year and brought my car to New Orleans with me. At that point, I was driving a maroon 1990 Ford Probe, nicknamed “Betty” (I am so witty, Betty Ford, eh?). When a guy ran a stop light and totaled that car, I replaced it with a Toyota Corolla named Norma Jeane. I drove that car from 2001 until last year, when it too was wrecked, this time when parked.
The car I have now is called Lulu. She’s a Volkswagen Golf, and I love her. She’s a 2000, not the prettiest thing on the road, but she’s a great little car with good gas mileage and she’s tiny and easy to park. Writing the Craigslist ad was hard.
In addition to my tendency to get emotionally attached to inanimate objects (the shoes I will not throw out, the dresses that I will never wear again), I’ve seen my car for so long as freedom. I could get in at any time and escape whatever was bothering me. I’ve driven pretty much all the way across the country–moving from New Orleans to Denver, driving to California from Denver (to LA then San Jose and then back down) and used road trips as a way to clear my head, to get over breakups or to decide to break up with someone.
I’ll save a bunch of money without a car, and yes, I’ll be greener or something. I don’t need a car in NYC, and I actually look forward to spending more time on foot and coming into contact with people. Cars isolate us to some degree, and living alone I’m already pretty isolated. Still, sometimes I need that space and time to myself.
I’ve already gotten one email about the car–haven’t even given her a bath and cleaned out the inside yet. I’m sad about leaving my apartment and my sister and my friends and professors and students and even my low-paying but often excellent job. But the car? That really hurts.
i’m sure you will find her a good home!
good luck with the move