It’s just after midnight now and I’m shortly bound for bed. I will be up at 9 o’clock to clean out the trunk/boot and the glove compartment, and the back seat foot well of the Crayola. There will be things to put in the trash and things to bring inside and a nice zip case full of cassette tapes to offer for free on craigslist. I am keeping the steering wheel cover. I’m keeping Po and the back window decal. I’ve already put the title and the extra keys in my purse. I will try not to cry, but it will be hard. I feel sad, apprehensive, and I don’t think I’ll be able to keep from feeling like a traitor when I drive it for the last time tomorrow.
The Crayola
May 20, 1987 – November 21, 2014
“Well done, thou good and faithful servant.”
The Owl Underground Archive II 
It’s easy to become emotionally attached to objects but it is a temptation to be avoided. Machines are just that, machines. They have no consciousness, they don’t love you and they have no concept of serving you. They will happily break down and, in the case of cars, kill you. Every car you manage to get rid of before it injures you or costs you a fortune is a triumph.
I’ve had several cars in my time and there was not one that I wasn’t relieved to be rid of when the time came.
A car is not to be mourned. Just be glad you survived the damn thing.
Oh, dear. I know exactly how you feel. When I sold my last one, the only thing that helped was that my baby was going to a young mother who needed transportation for school, day care and such. I hope yours does well for another. But it’s still sad.
When I bought my dream car in 1996 I sold my 1983 Mazda and was surprised when tears almost came as the new owner drove it away. But you’ll appreciate the new one.