Bye Bye Betsy

This week I am officially saying goodbye to my first, and best, little red car. Betsy.

Thanks to my gracious parents, I received Betsy even before I had my license. She didn't have electric windows or locks or even a CD player, but I couldn’t have cared less. I remember the way she smelled, the way it felt to roll into school those first few days in junior year. I remember when my Dad and I installed my new Kenwood CD player and I thought, surely, I was the coolest cat alive.

Betsy has been my two ton safety blanket through my final years of highschool, a move to college,a crazy job in Western MA and finally my move to Boston. Just before my move here, though, Betsy apparently decided she wasn't cut out for city living. Her engine and a myriad of other functions went south. Despite some gentle suggestions from friends, I forced her to the city and kept her running, albeit barely, because I couldn’t handle not having the independence of my car.

Finally, however, I've decided it's time to let Bets go. She's made every effort to let me know her wishes, believe me (you can read about some of those messages here and here).

Undoubtedly, the "Hallelujah Chorus" is playing loudly in every one of my close friends ears right now. Mostly because for all the inordinate amount of stress Bets has caused me these last few years, I've counteracted it by talking to them about all her problems . Non stop. Much to their joy, they'll never have to hear about Betsy and her failing transmission/radiator/speedometer/exhaust stystem again!

And while I have had a few pity parties, and my fierce independent streak is having to die to itself so I can ask for rides here and there, I am mostly reminded that people go carless in Boston every day. People that include some of my closest friends. And they still manage to get where they need to go and it's not the end of the world. Oh, right. NOT the end of the world. Funny, that. Because I'm pretty sure I've spent the last two plus years dumping lots of money into that old gal thinking that when she died it would be.

So there is it. Rest in pieces, Betsy Too. These last 7 years were great (OK… not so much the last two).

 P.S. Has anyone ever written a more dramatic post about a car? I think not.

Betsy is going to be sold for parts to help the Special Olympics (because I love the Olympics)