baby jetta

I listed my car for sale today. Getting rid of my stuff hadn't bothered me yet - even all my matching 'grown-up' furniture I'd bought with my first few paychecks, or those clothes I'd saved for years in the hope that I'd be able to fit into them again someday and they'd also be back in style whenever that happened. I let go of all those pretty easily.

But hitting the submit button on the craiglist ad for my car was harder. First, it made me realize I really am doing this - moving halfway across the world. And I know I want to, but I'm still scared. And second, I've put 84,000 miles worth of memories on that car in the 5 years and 2 days I've owned it.

'Baby Jetta' is only my second car. My first was a 1989 Dodge Spirit, really more of a tank than a car, with overstuffed dark red velour seats and a self-installed sound system (yes, including a powered bass tube...) more valuable than the car. The Spirit met its demise on a highway near Kings Dominion on the way back from my summer internship orientation after we hydroplaned into a construction van, and a Neon completed the sandwich.

So there I was, car-less and in need of a way to get to work every day. The dealership ad for the black automatic '97 Jetta with a moonroof and trailer hitch (...?) just seemed to be calling my name. Sure, it had over 96K miles on it, and fewer features than some others in the same price range - but it was perfect! I headed to the dealership with my brother Charles, who had kindly volunteered to come down for a weekend of car shopping, and there it was - I had to have it! Unfortunately, I'd somehow forgotten my license, and we'd driven far enough to get there that turning around seemed like it would be a waste, so the test drive was up to Charles. I surveyed the car from the passenger's seat and - ooh, look, there's an extra pedal! Fun! What's that for? Awkward silence. You mean the clutch? Charles asked. Clutch? What clutch? It's automatic. It said so right in the listing - right here, see?

I had somehow wormed out of my parents' requirement of learning to drive stick before I got my license, and now I was stuck. The listing was wrong, but this was meant to be my car. I inherited stubbornness/hard-headedness from both sides of the family, so I wasn't going to let a little thing like not knowing how to drive the car stop me. I got a quick tutorial from Charles and the salesman, who had said that anyone could learn how to drive a manual transmission car, and we took the car out on the road. And then the salesguy decided maybe he was wrong - um, yes, well, it can be harder for some people than others - want to go look at some of the others?

No - it was the Jetta or nothing. That week, I got up at 5 o'clock in the morning each day to drive the car, which had been delivered to my apartment, over to empty Innsbrook parking lots to figure out exactly how to drive the thing. I spent most of the time on the way over stalled out or in first gear, so I taped a hand-markered sign to the rear bumper: Please be patient, I'm learning to drive stick. Thanks! The sign helped me make friends with pretty much anyone who was out at that hour - unfortunately, people liked to honk and wave, which is not helpful when you're trying hard to concentrate.

I learned to drive the 'real' way on this car, I drove it 9,000 miles cross-country and back, took it on countless shorter roadtrips, moved into/out of 3 apartments with it and drove it to work nearly every day for the past four years. I guess I understand why it's a little harder to part with it, but hopefully someone else will get good use out of it now.