Nov 25, 2014 3 min read

In 2008, I inherited a six-year-old Honda Accord from my wife. She bought the car new in 2002, and it, reliably, took us on vacation for several years because it was properly maintained with regular oil changes, tire rotations and the like.

I got to drive it to the Jersey shore in the summer, but for my daily use, I had a 1995 Accord that was beginning to show signs that the car’s better years were behind it; things like state inspections costing as much as a monthly mortgage payment and body rust spots popping out like a teenager’s acne.

But back to the 2008 inheritance. The car was paid for and the wife decided it was time to look for a new car. Of course. Pay off one car and what better way to experience the American dream than to begin a second round of car payments.

The deal was done. The 1995 car was “sacrificed” as a trade for the new 2008 Accord. That thing could not have offset a payment schedule by more than a handful of change.

Nonetheless, the wife would make the car payments, as she did for the 2002 vehicle, and I would be given, “with reservations,” the car that had regular maintenance and was showing no signs of body rot.

“You know,” the wife said, as the deal was consummated at the dealership, “no one has ever smoked in this car.”

I don’t know what I was supposed to do with that declaration. Still smoking then, I was pretty sure there would be a few butts smoked in that car, even though there was no ashtray. And I wanted so much to say, “Yes, and how many times did you have to take it to a body shop to repair nonsmoking-related damage?” I didn’t, of course.

That 2002 Honda did me well, from the time I drove it in 2008 until earlier this month, when after 175,000 miles (many driven to and from work) and a host of other ailments, it was declared dead.

It was taken to the dealership for its scheduled state inspection. It was making strange noises and the wife took it there and waited. When the service manager walked toward her, kind of shaking his head back and forth, the wife knew it was not good news.

Wheel bearings were shot and other major failings were discovered. Estimated cost for repairs was more than $2,000. She called me at work. I told her “No way!”

I later learned the guy who does appraisals was told by the service manager to just drive the car in the lot. It was not street safe.

What would have happened if I continued to drive the car? The wheels may have come off while I was driving on the interstate or the steering could have locked. None of these was good.

We asked what was going to happen to the car. “We will use parts on other cars damaged in wrecks or in need of new interior seats, etc.”

Wow, this was like an organ donor program for scrap heap cars.

I have this vision of seeing a car driving down the road, kind of banged up except for this shining new hood. “That’s my hood,” I’ll say. I will feel so proud.

Oh, I am driving a 2014 Honda Civic. It’s leased, but what the heck. No deafening noises from worn wheel bearings or whatever. And the wife? Well, she’s still driving that “old” 2008 car.

Jon Stevens, Greene County bureau chief, can be reached at jstevens@observer-reporter.com.