May 30, 2007 By James Pletcher 3 min read

The paint’s peeling, it has 114,000 miles on it, the door creaks and overall it’s beginning to look its 14 years.

It might be time for another car.

My Buick, which I bought used in the last millennium, has been one of the best cars I have ever had. It’s had its share of mechanical failures, but, for the most part, has provided me with pretty reliable transportation. What I like most about it is its roominess. Most new cars today have what I call cockpit seating: there is a center console that reaches from the dash to the floor, helping to encapsulate the driver and front seat passenger. I liked that when I was young but now that I have some mileage on my amply fleshed bones, I prefer something that doesn’t hem me in.

I don’t like the idea of having to search for a new ride. I have grown accustomed to my Buick. I’m its only driver since my wife prefers her own (newer and nicer looking) vehicle. That’s a good thing because it means I never have to readjust the mirrors or seat.

In other words, it is well broken in and very comfortable.

But it’s looking stressed and worn. Washing and waxing only do so much. It has some major finish problems that could only be fixed with a new coat of paint.

Economically, it might be cheaper to go that route rather than look for another car. But then there’s the mileage. Of course, I don’t drive it that much, maybe less than a couple of thousand miles year. And the car used to get 29-30 miles to the gallon on a trip, although the farthest I drive it is about 30 or 40 miles.

You see the quandary I’m in, don’t you?

To buy or not to buy; that’s the question.

But there’s another factor: the emotional attachment, which I will never fully understand. I think we get too attached to our vehicles in some odd relationship. Maybe it harkens back to another time when we relied heavily on animals for transportation, developing a special rapport with each creature, worrying about its health and realizing it was a living, breathing thing that could feel pain and pleasure.

I think we imbue our vehicles with some of those qualities, forgetting they are nothing more than masses of metal, plastic, nuts and bolts with neither heart nor mind.

Does that stop me from talking to my car? No. If it’s a little cranky in the morning, I speak consolingly, coaxing it along until it fires up and then easing it into gear so as not to jolt or jerk it. If it’s covered with snow, I carefully sweep it off with a soft brush. On those frequent sweltering summer days, I park it in shade. I leave the porch light on at night, not so much for security but so I can look out the window at it.

Of course there’s another, greater factor to consider.

My lovely wife won’t ride in it in daylight because of its appearance.

I think that will be the ultimate decision-maker in whether I get another car or not.

Know what I mean?

Have a good day.

James Pletcher Jr. is Herald-Standard business editor. He can be reached at 724-439-7571 or by e-mail at jpletcher@heraldstandard.com.