To my first car,

There are so many things I wish I could tell you -- so many things I wish I could thank you for, but I can’t because you’re a car. Although I would like to think that maybe you’re aware of all the amazing times I’ve had with you, maybe it’s a good thing you’re not, because I’ve had one too many embarrassing jam sessions and one-ended conversations as I rode along on your pleather seats. Still, even though you’ll never really know all you’ve done for me, I would like to thank you.

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Thank you for getting me where I need to go. Even in your ripe old age, you’ve never failed me, and you’ve always been there when I needed you. There was that one time when you refused to start on a beautiful day and for absolutely no reason, but I’ll have to forgive you for that. Everybody has their bad days.

Thank you for bringing mystery into my life. Every day, I’m always wondering what will make me bring you into the shop next, which windows will decide to work and to what extent, and when the day will come that you finally decide your time has come to leave the auto world and become a million parts of scrap metal. I’d hate for that day to come, but you sure keep me on my toes.

Thank you for taking a beating. I call you "The Tank" for a reason -- and that’s because you’re sure to handle whatever I decide to put you through. There are many curbs that probably still have tire marks and flecks of your paint on the, and I’ve slammed on your brakes so many times that everything just sits up at the front seat now because all my stuff goes flying up there. You’ve never retaliated with some expensive cosmetic need to fix my abuse and for that I am grateful.

Thank you for keeping me safe. I know part of this is that I’m just such a great driver, but we certainly would have been in an accident now if it weren’t for you. Your beautiful snow tires make even the worst Wisconsin days seem pleasant and your efficient brakes have saved me from a lot of close calls. Even if I did get in an accident, I know your metal body would probably roll a way with a little less than a few bumps and bruises.

Thank you for all the adventures. I’ve had so many amazing times with you and even though we’ve never been outside of Wisconsin together, it feels like I've traveled the world with you. From blasting the music so loud on country roads that I blew out your speakers (sorry about that, by the way), to making late-night runs to Taco Bell at three in the morning, to racing home before curfew, I was able to make some pretty hilarious and wonderful memories because of you.

I really love you, oh beater of mine. Even though I’m almost certain your time is coming to an end, every ride with you is like being with an old friend. It’s easy, and comforting, and I’m really, really going to miss you when you’re gone. When the time comes to let you go, just know that no car will ever replace you (even if all the windows work in that one). You were the first car I ever drove, and you would be the last -- if only I could keep you forever.

Thank you for being mine,

Dutiful Driver