The front of the Mazda Tribute fell off this week, falling to the ground at a traffic light. It was a significant moment, and to me at least, it heralded what I believed might be the beginning of the end of our beautiful friendship.
This is a tribute. To my Tribute.
I could no longer ignore the fact that my beloved automobile was, quite literally, falling apart. The front of the car falling off the rest of the car at the lights was the latest in a long, long list of ailments which can no longer be ignored. These include;
- The starter motor is fucked. It takes 3 attempts to turn the car on and each time, a SCREAM is let out from under the bonnet and people stare.
- When the Tribute does finally start, and I get to a red light, it makes ridiculous bunny, hopping motions. Like a less cooler version of those LA Gangster Cars that bounce up and down. The kids shrink into their seats as people stop and stare, and I just gaze nonchalantly out the window, as if it is totally normal.
- The passenger door does not open and so you have to wind down the window and go-go gadget your arm out to open it from the outside.
- The entire car does not lock. Which means we can never visit Surry Hills. Which is where the best kebab shops are.
- The front of the car currently resides in the boot.
- The windshield wipers are akin to scratching one's fingernails down a chalkboard.
- The CD player is moot. Which is fine. As CDs are moot.
- The current value of the Tribute means that there is no real reason to insure it. So even if it was to be stolen, there would be no financial gain to be had. And the car thief would just be really pissed off at stealing such a liability.
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| Oh, and the aerial is permanently stuck in that position. |
I dropped her off at the mechanics this morning. He asked me to demonstrate all that ails her. She did not let me down, squealing on demand, bouncing up and down on the spot and refusing to open any doors. He was very thorough with his assessment, telling me that basically the car was fucked.
I told him that I had crunched the numbers and there was no way I can afford another car. I started to cry, for good measure. He told me to leave him the keys. I cheered up a bit and handed them to him, asking him when I could come and pick her up.
He told me. "Not for a very, very long time."
Deep down, I think I know the end is near. I need to face facts that my car is not long for this planet. I am just glad for all the memories, and the fact that I had the foresight to capture what might be the last moments we shared together. Which was this morning. When I dropped her off to the doctors.
And yes, at the end of this little video there is a radio ad for a new car. The irony is not lost on me.
And there ends........... The Tribute.
