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Tuesday, July 18, 2006

How Much Is That Mustang In the Parking Lot??

Although I’ve already told you the story of my selling the ‘Stang, the fact that I’m doing it has become all the more painful and poignant in my last week here in Louisville. I have composed a song to describe my angst—it goes something like this:

(to the tune of “How Much is that Doggie in the Window”)

How much is that Mustang in the parking lot?? ($3000, FYI)
The one with the wobbly spoiler?
How much is that Mustang in the parking lot??
Do you think that poor Mustang’s for sale?

I don’t want to go to Massachusetts,
And leave my poor Mustang alone.
If she has a buyer, she won’t be lonesome,
And the Mustang will have a good home.

(Repeat chorus)

Yes, I’m still trying to sell my car. Because of the Leadership Event, I did not put an ad out for it in the paper (not to mention that my mom was afraid some stranger would murder me if I did that ). I did, however, put up flyers in PresbyLand, hoping that one of my colleagues would give the ‘Stang a good home. No takers yet….

So it is looking like CarMax for the Mustang. For those of you who aren’t familiar with this, CarMax is a car lot that will buy your vehicle without a trade-in—all you need is photo ID, your title, and your registration. About half the cars they buy will end up on their lot to sell, and the other half will go to auction. It is a good deal if, like David and me, you’re looking to get rid of your car quickly with as little hassle as possible.

But for me, there is something repulsive about just handing my beloved car away to CarMax—it feels like I’m giving up my only child for adoption, never to know what became of her. I would much rather have the ‘Stang go to a good new owner, one who would care for her as I did for the past three years.

Not helping the situation are all my friends and family, who seem united together in opposing my sale of the car (with the exception of David, of course). Whenever I mention that my car has got to go, I am met with exclamations of shock and looks of dismay. Even friends like Amy, who believe firmly in the merits of public transportation and don’t drive themselves, ask me if there is any way I could just keep the car stored away until I need it again. Never mind that a ten-year-old Ford won’t keep well in the 3+ years we’ll be living the urban life.

In all our minds, I think the Mustang has become more than a car—it is a focal point for my past. I can’t look at that car without thinking of the day in which my friend Casey and I hopped in and pulled out of that driveway in Dryden, Washington, headed east to a world of new adventures, personal and spiritual growth, and romance, too. That period of my life is ending now, to be replaced by different growth and challenges as I begin married life in earnest.

And even as I can’t wait for the new to begin, my mourning the car symbolizes my grief for an era of my life that is ending. To tell you the truth, I don’t particularly want to take the Mustang with me to Boston. But part of me hurts that I’m leaving it, and the life it represents, behind.

So we may leave the ‘Stang at CarMax on Saturday morning, and I may even cry about it. But I hope that when it’s all over, I’ll dry my eyes and look east toward the world opening up before me. And I’ll look over at David, and know that the adventure is only beginning.

“Therefore, my beloved, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.” --1 Corinthians 15:58

Kelsey
posted by Noelle at 9:01 AM

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