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Driving

Until today, I hadn't started my car since February. It's been sitting out on the street in front of my house, gathering cherry-tree detritus and looking sad, while I ride my bike everywhere and test non-car-ownership as a way of life.

Poor car. If my sis hadn't stepped in, it would have sat there till all its value was gone. To me, the deadness of it seemed like an insurmountable obstacle, but she called AAA (on her membership), and they came and poured two gallons of gas into the tank and forced enough juice into the battery to turn the engine over.

Then she went with me for an otherwise-pointless 45-minute freeway drive to solidify the battery's charge and ream out whatever pipelines might have become gummed up.

To my amazement, it was fun. Driving fast on a summer afternoon, going nowhere, enjoying the freedom--it's part of the foundation of my youth. Suddenly, just getting rid of a car that I couldn't easily replace seemed kind of extreme. It's a nice car, it's a pleasure to drive, it runs well, and it's paid for. Part of me really does like driving.

On the other hand, the car needs cleaning, an oil change, some air in the tires, and, sometime in the next year or so, new brakes. And driving somewhere once a week just to keep an unneeded car viable seems silly and wrong.

I don't know. I haven't decided yet, I guess.

Crossposted from Dreamwidth, where there are comment count unavailable comments. | Comment at Dreamwidth.

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