At least Seb, who was fittingly named by Ilana, is going to a good new home with Ilana (I never called or thought of my car by its name until right now.), but transferring the title was more emotional than I anticipated. I've had that car for just under 8 years and just under 100,000 miles. It took me to St. Louis and back, to Maine, to North Carolina and Tennessee.
It was a model car with very few problems, despite it's age--a radiator something at some point, occasionally the battery would die and I never found out why (about three times in as many years, nothing very recently), a belt broke (and my dad and I--mostly my dad--fixed it in 32 degree weather--that is one tough engine to figure out), the heat shield came lose, which made a racket, but caused no problems (so we lived with the racket rather than paying to have it removed). Really it was the best car ever; our new (two-year old) car, for contrast, has already had to go to the shop twice and now someone hit it, so it will have to go back again. And because I bought the Sentra with a couple of scrapes, I never minded when I or anyone else (Francisco) added to the collection.
I didn't bump it too often--once I (gently) hit the metal that protects the gas tanks from cars at a gas station. I must have hit something else once or twice, but I don't really remember. Frankly, it's incredible that I didn't hit more things given the craziness of drivers on Lancaster Avenue. I routinely barely escaped with my life.
The car was small and comfortable and could take me really fast, like when I got a ticket for going 86, which thankfully I got waved since it carried the legal stigma equal to prostitution (some sort of misdemeanor). The car came without cruise control, which is why I got that ticket, driving alone at night on an empty road, listening to a basketball game.
And I loved the color. Neither Hopkins, from whom I bought it (for way too little money, if memory serves), nor Ilana, who gets it after me, like the color very much, but I think it's fantastic--one of my favorites. I wish I could take a swatch of paint with me.
If we didn't have a kid, I think I'd advocate just buying another Sentra. An experience like that one makes me wish to only ever drive Sentras again. But its small size, so comfortable, and yet Francisco and I would always bump elbows, has become a liability. Francisco also claims it's not cross-country-drive worthy anymore, although I'd beg to differ.