Bye Bye Pretty Twin-Turbo Stealth

I am uprooted. I sold my Stealth this morning I feel so weirdly depressed. It has been with me for 8 years. 8 years of fun: of donuts in the desert; of boys chasing us; of us out-driving boys to the point where they gave up after endless laps around roundabouts and mall parking lots; of maniacal driving on the way to/from chalets, camps and farms; of getting stuck in sand and looking pitiful until help arrived; of little kids saying how pretty she was; 8 years of rebellious anti-traditional female behavior in a fast, flashy car. 8 years of refusing to sell her to anyone. 7 years of arguing with my father on why I should keep her. 8 years of up-shifting, down-shifting, and replacements of tires. 8 years of looking for parts in Amghara and praying for just one more original wheel rim or part. … Now, she’s gone.

People like my sister think I’m strange for attaching emotions to material things. For some, it is difficult not to. That car was with me for most of my life spent in Kuwait. I bought her from a good friend who took meticulous care. She was my constant – always there, always dependable, always admired by others. Through good times and bad. Through sick and through sin.

The Kuwaiti brothers who bought her promised to stop by and let me visit with her; telling me how they plan for modifications. One of the brothers is a mechanical engineer; another is an auto mechanic. They have had and have loved other Stealths. She’ll have a good home. She won’t go to scrap or to someone who will cannibalize her for parts. I just feel totally deflated. I love that car, but after so long, the upkeep was just too much. I have much less time than I used to; life has become too complicated and I had neglected her.

I quickly transferred the money back to the States, so I wouldn’t know it was here and have to compare the price to a life of a car (or a lifestyle in this case). Ok, let me be honest - or so as not to buy more shoes!