Triumph and Transitions

At long last, the time has come.  Victory is MINE!

Which is to say, a year and a half after I should have done so, I finally bought a new(er) car, and some two weeks after I should have done so, I am blogging about it.  Back on the 8th, my Vati and I made our way to Troy where I drove and examined and, in the end, purchased a 2010 Toyota Corolla.  I’m considering calling her Ruby, cliché though the name be.  She is shiny and red and a whopping 16 years newer than the Buick Century…which means there are some changes to get used to.

Here are some of them:

Gear shift placement.  Back in 1994, the gear shift was attached to the steering column, such that one would reach behind the steering wheel to put it in drive etc.  But if I try that now, the wipers will turn on instead.

Traction control.  This is the most unsettling one: if the car starts to slip, some system …um…interferes?  Tries to take my control away?  Makes the car move funny until I remove my foot from the gas?  It sort of makes sense, but it’s also profoundly strange, and kind of unwelcome; the first few days I drove it were particularly icy, lending another layer of discomfort to learning to navigate the novelty.  Add traction control anxiety to new car anxiety to pothole-of-DOOM anxiety, and you have the most nerve-wracking drive I’ve taken yet.

Car payments.  Welcome to adulthood, kid.  This one shouldn’t be a problem, but there was the moment where I misread my statement – which said the first payment was due on March 25th – such that I thought payment was due a month earlier than that.  So…well, I sure got my payment in on time, even if I had some gut-wrenching moments of panic that prompted me to sign up for online payments.

Radio and dashboard.  This was always going to be a change, I guess, but it’s not too bad.  My hand is already learning where to reach to control the heating vents and radio stations.

Putting my cassettes away.  The Buick had a much beloved Billy Joel tape, Turnstiles, in the deck for months.  Now I’ve got a CD player – which, as CDs are getting phased out, means I am still a bit behind the times.  Ah well.  There’s an auxiliary jack as well.  Such novelty, guys, I’m not sure I’m up for it.

Looking for the right car in the parking lot.  So far this has gone better than expected.  It helps that the remote entry works more remotely than the Century’s did (and beeps cutely.  Hooray!)

HEAT.  It still takes a few minutes for the Corolla to heat up in a winter like this, but it’s so much faster than the Century.  Not to mention, there’s such a thing as being overly warm in the car.  I had no idea.

Speed.  The Century could book it, when needed, but there was no way to go over 65, much less 70 or 75, without it whinging a bit.  A kind of growling and shuddering that made everyone in the car recognize how much the car was working.  Now I can just zip along at 80 without noticing.  Whoops!

All in all, it is a lovely change – though I must admit, Dad may be right.  Once I’d purchased it, he said “I think it’ll take years before you love it as much as you loved the Buick.”  Sounds unlikely, given that the Buick essentially cost me nothing and I just put down a heaping chunk of change on this newer car.  But that was the point: there was an essential carelessness to driving the Century, an attitude unbothered by the prospect of minor damages to something so sturdy and so many years old.  I never really thought of the Buick as rugged, but it turns out I drove it that way.  It was a far more masculine vehicle than the sweet lady I have now.  But she’s rather delightful so far!  I think I’ll keep her.

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2 thoughts on “Triumph and Transitions

  1. This made me laugh out loud a few times. “Whoops!”

    So… “I never really thought of the Buick as rugged, but it turns out I drove it that way. It was a far more masculine vehicle than the sweet lady I have now.” <– WHY does that sound like (to me) my favorite British gentleman on his episode of Top Gear? I dunno, it seems like he would refer to a car as a "sweet lady," and "sweet" in the "sugar and everything nice" sense, not "dude, sweet ride." Because that latter part is so not Shakespearean, natch.

    • Ehehehehehe!

      I am going to chalk it up to your ability to see reminders of him everywhere, much as I can hear bagpipes in all sorts of not-bagpipey sounds. Which is a splendid metaphor, I’m sure.

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